The Passage of Time
by Kouta Aburame
Summary: She truly loved Tristan more than she ever loved anyone, but she understood that he was nothing more than a speck in the expanse of history and he, like all beings, would fade with the passage of time.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**:I know this idea has been done a lot, and I know a lot of them are terrible, but I want togive this a shot and see if I can breath new life into it. I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer:I don't own Zelda or any of its characters but I do own Tristan.**

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock

The brilliant landscape stretched out like a sheet of paper for as far as he could see. Tristan had to shield his eyes to protect them from the intense light that gleamed off the smooth white surface. He had no idea if the light was coming from below, above, or wherever. There wasn't even a shadow cast beneath him.

Clocks of all shapes and sizes faded into the empty plane. About ten clocks slowly drifted randomly through the infinite space, fading away only to allow another clock to chime its appearance.

Every clock was unique in both appearance and time. Each displayed a different face, their hands pointing in random directions from one another. But they all retained the similar sound of passing time.

Tick… Tock… Tick…Tock

Tristan sat for several minutes, hypnotized by the monotonous sound of the clocks before he noticed something peculiar. No matter how much time passed, the hands of the clocks never seemed to shift. Even the second hands were motionless, which left the question floating through the air: from where did the sound emanate?

The ticks became more frequent.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

The clocks began increasing in number. There were twenty,thenforty,then ninety,allwith thatsame monotonous sound, the chimescresendoing with theirsheer numbers.

They flew through the sky deliberately. At first, they floated aimlessly through the sky, like feathers in the wind. Now they flew in swarms, their intense ticking growing even faster.

TickTockTickTock

Tristan ran as fast as his legs could take him to evade the menacing clocks. He heard several thuds as they hit the ground behind him, but he didn't dare turn to look. He knew he had to find somewhere safe. Somewhere he could escape the alarming clocks and their maddening, relentless tick. The invading clocks caught up and encircled him. There were more now than he could possibly ever count, making a circular dome around the helpless boy. He couldn't even decipher the individual ticks anymore. It sounded more like a swarm of wasps.

TiTocckkTTocikTiocTkTTkkicci

He was trapped. His legs lost all feeling and buckled under his weight. He couldn't move, he was going to die.

A tremendous gong rang over the plane and the clocks stopped. Tristan failed to notice, his thoughts only locked to the droning of ticks that still hung over him, and worst of all, the slow drone of the grandfather clock. It sounded like a death toll.

Then, he was falling—falling through the infinite pallid abyss. He was falling, falling, and then… blackness.

Tick… Tock… Tick…Tock

**Authors Note: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. I would love to hear about anything you liked or disliked about this prologue.**


	2. Late for Trouble

**Authors Note: **Here's the first real chapter like I promised. I hope you enjoy it.

P.S: I know Tristan seems like a Mary Sue now, but I fix the problem in later chapters so please don't say anything about it until you reach that point. Thank you in advance.

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Chapter 1: Late for Trouble

Tristan awoke with a start, falling out of bed in the process. Pale, and drenched in cold sweat, he pulled himself panting back up to his bed. A look of startled terror crossed his placid face.

What on Earth just happened? He gripped his left calf instinctively; feeling for some kind of cut. There was no wound, not even a pink mark where the cut would have pressed against his skin.

He rolled the thought in his mind like a piece of dough, trying to contemplate what just happened. There was a clock… ticking… a gong. He could've sworn something sharp had at least grazed his skin but nothing came to mind. He reached deeper, trying to find something but it drained away like water through his hands.

A large ring echoed somewhere out of his window. Come to think of it, there was a large cathedral on the right side of town with a giant bell. Every hour, the bell would tone, sending its bass projection across the entire town. His house was fairly close by, only a couple blocks down the street, so the noise came loudly and clearly. It was very annoying when he first moved here, couldn't get a wink of sleep.

"_I need to calm down,_" he thought, "_I must've be imagining things._"

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, he must've heard the bell and then that dream occurred. Yeah, there was nothing to worry about, right?

He stood up, regaining his composure when his watch went off. His body involuntarily shuttered, like a startled horse. He looked at the timepiece forgetting he set the alarm for five o' clock this morning. He flipped it off and took a deep breath.

"_Relax,_" He thought, his hand tightly clutching his chest, "_It was just a dream,_"

Besides, it was already five, well, actually five o' five since his watch was slow. He needed to work out and get ready for school.

Class didn't start for another three and a half hours but he was still pressed for time. Every day, he did at least forty-five minutes of abdominal workouts plus another forty-five for his lower back. Today was the day he'd work his upper arms and pectorals. All together, it took about sixty minutes to complete this segment.

Every morning, it was about seven-thirty before he finally cleaned up in the shower. It's a good thing his younger brother and sister didn't wake up so early; he'd never get the shower at that rate.

He made sure to make the shower quick, he still needed to wake everyone up, prepare breakfast, hand out money for lunch, and get everyone out the door. He was always exhausted at the end but at least his mother could sleep in a little later. It was only one of many grievances he could take on for her.

The workout also paid off well. He would use the mirror daily to inspect each area of his body and find any spots he might have neglected. It was truly a work of art. His muscles were clearly defined and sculpted. He even sweated the water from his muscles to decrease weight, and increase productivity.

Still, he never cared much for his looks. All he really wanted was be strong. It was his duty as the eldest brother to protect his family from the thugs of the street. Heaven knows if someone could break into there house.

He looked at his watch, it was already 7:45, and he needed to leave soon if he was going to get to school on time. He quickly ran a brush over his tan brown hair, making sure to get those knots on the left side of his head. He slid his raincoat on, and wore his black rainproof pants, knowing from that morning's forecast it might rain tonight. He finally slipped his jogging shoes on just before the bell tower signaled the hour. It was five miles to his school and he would need all the time he could get.

It was strangely easy to keep his rhythm on the road today. He heard a soft ticking noise in his head. It was faint, like he imagined it or something. Still, it made keep his pace much easier.

He was almost out of town. The school was only about three more miles away. The only problem was he had fifteen minutes left! There was no sidewalk once you left town and that meant even rougher terrain. He knew he should have woken up a half-hour earlier. Well, nothing he could do about it so he increased his pace.

The area to the school was fairly barren. Plants grew sparsely along the landscape and few animals passed through his sight. The only man-made thing in this place was the street he jogged next to and it helped to relive the ever-building tick in his head

Eventually, one of the cars pulled off the road. It was a Mazda, fairly new considering its look. He only knew one person on campus who could keep his car that well clean and he knew now he defiantly wouldn't get to school on time.

A group of four came out from the vehicle, all with malicious looks on their faces. Tristan knew this group all too well and what trouble they caused at the school.

First there was Cliff. He was about a head taller than him and almost twice his size. He was wearing a white muscle shirt with blue shorts. It was defiantly smart attire during the spring, but everyone knew he wore it just to show off his muscles.

Then there was George. He is often known as The Greaser for his atrocious hairstyle. It looked like he uses a tub of Crisco everyday just to keep it in that fashion. Everyone hated the look, but if you said anything about it, you'd be getting swirlies for days.

Carlos was right after him. He was a foreigner from Mexico who quickly fit in with Markus's gang. He may look frail under his basketball jersey and slim jeans but he was the fastest sprinter in track. He was also fairly creative, offering unique punishments for students almost everyday.

And the final member of their monkey band was the leader, Markus. This guy was one of the stupidest but strongest people in the school. Normally, people turn their eyes away because of his short temper and grueling punishments. His father was also a high ranking members of the Mazda car company, hence the shiny new car. He was someone that even the teachers had a hard time restraining.

He had to deal with these people almost every week on his way to school and every time they made him late.

"We've got you now Tristan!" Markus said pointing his finger.

"Yeah, we've got you now," George sneered, adding to the statement. None of his goons responded to anything unless Markus directed them to,

"Do we have to do this again," Tristan said, brushing them off, "I'm already late, so move aside."

Markus's face twisted, as if he never herd such ignorance; "You wish!" Markus said, "But I'm ready for you this time!"

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade. Tristan didn't think Markus would go as far as buying such an expensive trinket just to beat him. Certainly he was worried, that blade was certainly new and probably custom made. He did his best to keep his cool as the others pulled out similar weapons

Markus sneered, "What's wrong," Markus boasted confidently, "are you scared."

"Hardly, I just didn't think you would go as far as kill me is all," Tristan tried to act confident but a slight tone of worry was in his voice. His whole body was shaking slightly.

Markus was too stupid to notice: "Of course, I'm sick and tired of you getting all the attention."

This conversation was only going downhill. Markus took offense to everything he said. He reached for his coat's zipper: "Oh Ge," Tristan said sarcastically, "I wonder why that is. Surly torturing the kids makes you very popular."

It was the straw that broke the camels back, "I've had enough of your witty remarks! Get him!" He yelled, his face flushed with rage.

They all rushed him, their switchblades prepared to strike, but Tristan removed his jacket. Underneath was a blue foam vest with several slim pockets decorating the front. Instead of a button, a Velcro strap fastened the vest: "Well, if you're that serious, I won't hold back."

The gang hesitated but Markus was stern. He was confident he would win, no matter what this guy had up his sleeve: He yelled, "Oh please! You're just bluffing!"

The gang, with reimbursed confidence, was already upon the lone defender. Tristan had removed the Velcro strap from his vest. Carlos was the first to feel the attack as he removed his vest and swung it at him. He went flying, and rolled three feet away before hitting a nearby rock.

The gang stood there stunned at the sight but not nearly as much as Carlos. That blow knocked his wind out of him! He found it difficult to breathe as a sharp pain surged through his right chest with each inhalation. He couldn't get to his feet, knowing that two of his ribs were cracked if not broken. What on Earth did he just hit him with?

Tristan noticed there stunted silence and snickered, "I told you I was serious," He said dropping the vest. It hit with a loud thud, "That's a power vest; it adds an extra eighty pounds while I run."

"E-eighty?!!" Carlos gasped, forcing himself back to his feet.

"I don't care if you have eighty or eight-hundred pounds on you, I'll still slice you up!"

The remaining two thugs regained their composure, drinking in their bosses every stupid word. Marcus led the charge, his blade hand extended full reach in front. He heard Carlos yell something like don't do it, but he didn't care. To him, the only reason he even had thugs was to look more powerful and Tristan was the only thing that stood in his way.

Tristan unfurled the right sleeve of his jacket, revealing a padded, black-striped wristband. He removed the accessory and threw it into Markus's face. It was only five pounds, so it wouldn't do much damage, but it did stun him long enough to get a solid jab into his diaphragm.

The incapacitated boy fell to his knees, dropping his knife, and gasping for air. It felt like a donkey kicked him. He tried getting up again but he couldn't breathe. It took only a few minutes before he passed out on the ground, his crisp, new shirt covered in drool and sandy pebbles.

Still, the boy did have some impact. The knife in his hand managed to graze his shoulder in passing and the wound bleed freely. Tristan knew the wound wasn't too deep but it was still extremely painful. It felt like a searing wire was pushed through his skin. He instinctively grunted and grabbed the wound.

Cliff and George were scared to death; all the color ran from their faces until they saw blood running down Tristan's arm. It wasn't much, but their leader still hurt him. The two of them charged Tristan together, hoping to avenge their leaders defeat.

Tristan countered to remove the wristband on his wounded arm. He continued running, knowing he couldn't take them both at once.

"What's wrong? Are you scared?"

Little did they know this was all part of his plan. George was already getting tired and was falling behind. He just needed a little more distance between them, and then he could knock Cliff out without interference.

His foot caught a small rock, causing him to stumble across the ground. He grabbed his shoulder tightly as a new wave of pain surged though his arm. Darn it! Some dirt must've irritated the wound. He needed to get it treated quickly, but he had to take care of these goons first.

By now, Cliff was already upon him and ready to thrust the knife into Tristan's exposed stomach. Tristan countered by kicking some loose sand in his face. The sand hit, blinding him and knocking him off balance.

Now was his chance, his luck wasn't as bad as he thought. He put he legs up, catching the flying Cliff and somersaulted backwards. Cliff could only watch as the redirection sent him face first into a nearby rock. Both Tristan and George cringed when they heard the soft thud of skull on stone. Cliff's head bobbed forward once before falling to the dirt.

George was the only one left. Unlike the others, he learned quickly that a frontal attack would just get them clobbered. If he just waited here, he should have a better advantage.

Tristan knelt down and lifted his trousers. George was flabbergasted, when he saw the Velcro pads strapped to his ankles. He still had more weights?! How could someone carry that much weight and still run to class?

Tristan had already closed the distance between them before George could regain his senses. His assault was completely merciless. Jab, jab, cross, jab, cross, cross, all of his punches hit his chest squarely.

Even after such a merciless beating, George still managed to keep on his feet, if but barely. Tristan had to recognize this man's willpower. He returned to the brawl hitting the stunned goon with a solid right hook and finished it with a backhanded uppercut.

George was on the ground, completely delirious, but still conscious.

"Hey George, you're a lot stronger than your so-called 'leader'," he pressed his foot against his chest. George let out a loud cry before losing conciseness; "Perhaps you'll be the leader one day."

He picked up his ankle weights, along with the other two bodies and brought them back to lay with Markus. He didn't move Carlos, knowing he might damage his ribs further if they were moved.

He looked at his watch again. It was already 8:25. There's no way he could make it now. Unless….

He reached into his tote bag and pulled out a sharpie. Then he walked over to Markus and flipped him onto his back. Hopefully he would take the message well, though he knew he wouldn't.

_Markus,_

_The keys are in your locker._

_Happy Trails!_

He fumbled through Markus's pockets. They were so tight; he could stand to lose some weight. It took a while but he got Markus's keys out of his pocket. He wanted to get the exercise, but he needed to take care of his shoulder. He put his weights into his bag and threw them into the car.

He loved how smooth Markus's car drove. It was truly state of the art, and new based on the smell. He wished he could afford such a nice car.

It made him feel bad he was taking it, but he was going to give it back. This was their punishment for attacking him with weapons. And besides, they needed the exercise anyway. Maybe he should call an ambulance to pick up Carlos. Even if he did attack him, he still hoped he was all right.

There was something else bothering him to. That ticking he was hearing earlier was getting louder. He turned up the radio to drown it out but it was beginning to concern him. At first, it was only a faint mumble, quieter than a buzzing fly but now it was clearly audible. Well, let's hope it doesn't interfere with school; he had enough trouble for one day.

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**Authors Note: **Thanks for reading this far. Please tell me any specifics you liked or disliked in your review. I also have a poll I put up recently about this story. Please submit your vote soon for it will affect the stories length. 

**P.S. **He's not in the Zelda world just yet. I want to put him in the real world for a time to develop his character. **  
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	3. Testing

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took so long, darn writers block and thanks to everyone whose reviewed so far. I hope you will leave any comments you have about this paticular chapter. And for you new readers, feel free to leave a review.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Legend of Zelda, or any of its characters but I do own Tristan.

Chapter 2: Powerless

It didn't take long for Tristan to park the Mazda. Markus always had a spot reserved for him; he even had guards who came early to ensure its vacancy. The thought of such pampering only made his respect towards Markus diminish even further.

The men quickly surrounded the car as he pulled into the empty lot. They looked passive but they were clearly trained, and ready to fight. He wasn't sure he could beat these guys, especially considering his position in the car.

One approached the door and leaned closer to determine the trespasser. His long, thin face caste several shadows across his visage, making him appear much older than he was. His short trimmed hair and primed mustache blended perfectly with his black security uniform. He seemed to have a gentle yet adamant presence, it was something Tristan truly respected. He rolled down the car window to be polite.

The man asked calmly: "Excuse me sir, but this lot is reserved for Master Markus. May I please ask you to leave?"

Tristan made direct eye contact with the man, attempting to avoid a confrontation: "This is Markus's car, I was bringing it to school for him." It wasn't a very cleaver lie but he was hardly skilled at bluffing.

The man's eyebrows furled slightly, creating a stifling ambiance; the guards behind, and to his right were already performing threatening gestures.

He waved his hand, calming the guards, though the tense atmosphere still remained: "You don't seem like someone who would steal cars. Please explain how you came to acquire it?" It seemed the respect Tristan felt was mutual

"You see, on the way here, I found Markus next to the road on my morning jog to school. He told me his friend might've sprained his ankle so he asked me to take the car and call an ambulance as soon as I could."

He turned away to review the statement, "That doesn't seem like something Markus would do," he muttered to himself. Tristan broke into a cold sweat. If he wasn't careful, he'd have a lot more to deal with than a few scratches.

The man turned back to face him, his eyes condemning. This was bad, they figured out his lie!

"What a nice this for him to do. I'm glad he has friends like you."

Tristan was shocked; did he actually fool him? No, he knew he was busted but what made him act this way? Carefully, he opened the car door, took his bag, and stepped out.

The man grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly. Tristan was surprised at first but then the man gave him a solitary wink. It seems he had as much distaste for Markus as he and the rest of the school did. He returned the gesture firmly and politely.

"Don't worry, well be sure to call an ambulance right away. Thank you for your concern."

"I hope his friend makes a speedy recovery," Tristan replied smiling. He looked down at his watch, 8:35! "Shoot, I'm late for class, I'll see you guys later!" He said, hastily picking up his bag.

"Take care," the man said waving back at him. Such a nice boy he was. If only Markus could be more like him.

He hopped across the quad, sprinting for his first class. He couldn't believe he was late today of all days. He spent all night studying for this test and now he was going to be late!

The tote bag only impeded his sprint. It, with all his weights, slumped and twisted uncontrollably, making it difficult to maintain his balance. It would probably be smarter to put the weights back on, but he didn't have time for that. He would just have to deal with it…

And this obsessive ticking! Even during the conversation with the guard, he could still hear that annoying tone ringing in his head. It filled his ears now, slightly dampening all other noise and it was already giving him a tremendous headache. Something told him this was going to be a long day.

It was about 8:37 when Tristan burst through the door to his first period physics class. The teacher and students looked up, slightly startled but mostly irritated about the late coming. The teacher walked up to him, handing a sheet of paper containing the test and pointed sternly to his seat. Tristan walked over and sat down without delay.

He pulled out two number two pencils and a sheet extra scrap paper from his bag. After jotting his name down, he looked at the first problem.

_A bullet of mass 10g and speed v passes completely through a pendulum bob of mass 100g. The bullet emerges with a speed v/2, as shown above. _

_What is the minimum value of v such that the bob will just barely swing in a complete vertical circle if the bob is suspended by a stiff 1.0m long rod of negligible mass. Repeat the calculation for the case with the bob is suspended by a light flexible string (also 1.0m long)._

Lets see, he knew the answer to this. He needed to convert the linear momentum to angular momentum, but how to do it. He knew this; it was on the tip of his tongue. He hit his head nervously, trying to stop the ticking but it only made it worse. Damn noise, he couldn't concentrate. He decided to go to the next problem.

_A coin placed 31.0cm from the center of a rotating, horizontal turntable slips when its speed is 52.0cm/sec. What is the coefficient of static friction between the coin and the turntable? _

Wow, this was tough. He needed to think. Frictional force was equal to the coefficient of static friction, multiplied by the normal force. What was normal force? How did you find the static coefficent? He was starting to get a headache and the stupid ticking wasn't helping. Why did this have to happen today?

Before he knew it, the bell signaling the next period rang. He only got through eight out of the ten questions and he wasn't all too confident with the answers. It only felt worse, knowing his teachers disposition towards him. He walked out the door with the rest of the students; almost certain he would fail.

"So, how'd the test go?"

Tristan looked to see his friend Dom walking casually beside him. A naturally well-built person but he rarely worked out, much to Tristan disapproval. He tended to focus more on his academic studies and everyone considered him a genius in almost every field he entered. If anyone compared him to Tristan, they'd be complete opposites.

He was also the third most popular person in school, next to Markus and himself. Nearly everyone on campus knew him as "Afro Man" because of his large fro, which stood coiled in thick knots. He chuckled under his breath as he pictured him with brushed hair. His Afro would've filled the entire hall.

After the slight pause, he asked again, "So what'd ya think, easy right?"

Tristan head drooped even further: "Oh, sorry man," Dom said.

"Its fine," Tristan replied. He wasn't very convincing.

"You, know, you're always welcome to study with me, I'll make sure you have everything down pat."

"Thanks but I've just been too busy recently,"

"Then I'll come to your house. My parents are always pestering me to hang out with friends more often." Dom said, putting his hand on Tristan's shoulder.

"Thanks Dom, you're a good friend." Tristan tried to return the gesture, but grunted as his shoulder wound reopened.

Dom felt the blood quickly, even under Tristan's rainproof jacket. Already, the warm liquid was darkening the coat. He grabbed the arm: "Tristan, your hurt." A tone of worry echoed in his voice.

"Don't worry, it's just a scratch."

Dom looked directly into his eyes, something he rarely did: "Take off your jacket."

"What?"

"I said, take off your jacket!" He rarely heard him this distressed before. People were turning their heads curiously.

"Alright," he said, surrendering. It was slightly painful. The blood from earlier had cooled and crusted already and it peeled some of the scabbing off.

The wound was worse than Dom first predicted. It was still shallow, but it was already showing signs of infection. Probably from the fine sand that lightly coated his arm. He needed to get this treated right away.

He dragged him to a nearby hallway, trying to avoid as much pedestrian traffic as possible. He didn't need everyone knowing about this or they'd never hear the end of it.

He made certain there were no onlookers before looking at him: "Tristan, you were stabbed on the way to school, weren't you?"

"Well obviously," Tristan said shoving his hands into his pockets. He knew Dom was good at reading body language.

"Was it Markus?" Tristan involuntary shuddered. It was something anyone else would've easily overlooked: "tell me what happened."

He was reluctant at first but he bet Dom knew the story already, so there was no sense keeping it secret. He told him everything about that morning, the incident with Markus, and his confrontation with Markus's butler. He finished just as the minute warning bell sounded.

"So, Markus uses knives now huh?" Dom murmured, his fingers caressing his short beard, "Come on Tristan, we'll talk on the way to class."

Dom made sure to inspect their surroundings. He knew if anyone found out about Tristan's injury, it would make the schools front papers. Neither he nor Tristan wanted that kind of publicity.

Most of the students had flocked to their separate classes but a few still remained. One of them was rifling through their locker, which knocked several papers out into the hallway. She was probably just late for class so they could slip by her without distraction. Another guy was at the vending machine across the way. He kicked it in frustration as his trick to get free soda failed. He was too angry to notice if anyone came around the corner so it should be easy getting past him as well.

The only person left was a fairly fat individual smoking at the hallway's far end. Apparently he didn't care much about the rigors of school life and was only there to stay out of trouble. Of the remaining students, he would probably be the most difficult to sneak past.

He took the risk. He draped Tristan's blood-soaked jacket over the cut shoulder, making sure to hide the soiled shoulder. They made their way across the hall, making sure not to draw any unnecessary attention. The two with their backs turned didn't notice a thing, just as he had suspected. The smoker also took little heed of the two as they walked past him. This was going better than he hoped; now all they needed to do was turn the corner.

Dom slipped on a puddle of soda near the end of the hall. He managed to catch himself quickly, but Tristan tried to keep him steady, causing the jacket on his shoulder to fall. The smoker and the other two turned their heads to see the commotion but they were already around the corner.

Dom let out a sigh of relief as he replaced Tristan's jacket. He gave the man an unexpected glare before heading off the rest of the way. Tristan was a great fighter, he knew that, but he could certainly learn to be a little more discrete.

They managed to reach the end of the hall just as the late bell rang. The office was fairly new in comparison to the rest of the building. The walls were made of large slabs of wood, unlike the ancient brick that composed the rest of the school. The whitewashing gave the room a clean and sanitary look that made Dom almost skeptical.

"Thanks for bringing me here," Tristan said, "You'd better get to class. I don't want you to get in trouble for my sake."

"Tristan, we need to talk."

"What do you mean?"

"Tristan, I know you're strong, but you need to avoid these fights!"

"If you're talking about today, I didn't start that fight."

"I know you didn't but still, you need to tell the school about this, if Markus attacked you then-"

"Tell the school about it? What are they going to do, tell his parents?! You know as well as I do they don't care what there son does. They were probably the ones who bought the knives!"

"Then file a complaint. You can't let this injustice slide!"

"I wish I could but both of us know we can't lay a finger on any of them."

Dom was dumbstruck. He never realized how strongly Tristan felt about this.

"Its kind of ironic, isn't it? I'm strong enough to compete in the Olympics yet I can't do anything to protect this school from people like him. I'm powerless."

"Tristan…"

The noise in his head was giving him a splitting headache: "Dom, thanks for your concern but you need to get to class," he said dismissively.

Dom wanted to continue the conversation but knew Tristan wouldn't hear a word more: "All right, I'll see you at lunch."

"Alright, see you then," Tristan said, waving goodbye. A twinge of guilt hit him. He shouldn't have snapped at him like that. He had to apologize to him at lunch. But for now, he needed to get the cut stitched up.

The inside of the facility was only slightly more intricate than its exterior. A few chairs, covered with cheap polyester cushions, spotted the far right wall, left shifted by lazy individuals who accommodated them. A solid white, corded phone hung on the wall above a simple wooden nightstand where a phone book lay closed.

The room was far larger than it appeared on the outside. It was about five paces to the check-in stand and each step would be greeted by cheap, old, carpet that barely served to soften his footfalls. The school could defiantly invest more money on this place, rather than spend it all on the sports department.

The nurse sat inattentively, playing with a pen she pulled from the top drawer. She was just as stereotypical as the smell the accompanied the ward. A bland triangle mount displayed the name and occupancy of the recipient, Mrs. Jackson Reese. Tristan stood patiently for three minutes, waiting for her to finish her menial task before addressing himself.

She looked up at him with a cranky and irritated look: "What?!" She said bluntly.

"Would you mind looking at this cut? I think it might be infected."

She let out a complacent sigh before telling him to wait a few minutes. Someone should be there to attend him shortly.

He sat down on the polyester couch across the room, extremely irritated with this woman. To believe someone like her was working in the clinic. The school could afford much better than her for certain. The ticking only escalated the intensity of his headache and it took all his willpower just to keep from throttling her.

After fiddling with some paperwork, she escorted him to the back in inspect his "cut". The workstation was very ill equipped, just a small cushion to lie down and a few wooden chairs. Across the room, on the right wall lay a small medicine cabinet and sink just beneath it.

She told him to show her the cut so he sat down on the cushion and took off his jacket. She was defiantly surprised; most people only came in for minor scratches and scrapes from academic sports, but this. She washed her hands thoroughly and mechanically put her disposable rubber gloves on.

The headache was almost unbearable now. Tristan pressed his palm against his head, hoping it would dull the pain a little. He barely heard the nurse when he asked what was wrong.

She ignored the problem for the moment, it was probably a simple headache and she could give him some medicine if he needed it. She pulled out an alcoholic pad and started wiping the sand from the wound.

Tristan grunted in pain but at the same time, he found comfort in it. It at least took some of the throbbing pain from his head. He was about to smash it through the wall, just to stop the incessant ticking! He heard a dampened yell echo in his ears. It sounded horrible, like someone on the verge of death. It felt like he was loosing his mind when he heard something else.

It was so soothing, like a Gregorian chant resonating in a church or temple. It was difficult to hear over the ticking, but his mind locked onto it, holding it tightly as if it was the last thing on Earth.

He focused on the strange tune and the ticking slowly died away, deafening in both frequency and volume until it vanished into a soft hum under the peaceful song.

"Hey, what wrong? Say something!" He could finally hear the woman's distraught cries but they hardly sounded concerned. It felt more like she was concerned more with her job than his actual well-being. Still, he appreciated the concern nonetheless.

He replied, "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"What just happened? You were screaming like someone shot you just now!"

So he was the one screaming: "Sorry, I had a massive headache, but it's gone now." He looked at his watch, he only had thirty-minutes of class left so he saw little point in going. Besides, it was physical fitness, and he knew all too well he needed to learn about physical fitness.

He asked the nurse, "Would you mind telling my teacher about my absence, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Wait! Are you sure your alright?"

"Positive. Now if you excuse me, I think I'm going to go clear my head a little."

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. I would greatly appreciate it.

**P.S: **Those physics problems from earlier in the chapter, I wonder if anyone can solve them.


	4. When Time Stands Still

**Disclaimer:** I own neither The Legend of Zelda nor its characters but I can dream, can't I?

The Passage of Time

Chapter 3: When Time Stands Still

Tristan left the office, his head filled with questions. That song he heard flowed with the rhythm of the repeating tick. It felt as if it was there the entire time, finally revealing its undertone when the noise reached its peak, like a note that can only be heard when the volume is cranked to max. He didn't know what was happening anymore and all this thinking was only making his head hurt.

He decided to go to his usual spot behind the gymnasium's equipment shed to cool off. It was something he did frequently during his physical fitness class. Frankly, the teachers actually wanted him far away, knowing the sheer chaos aroused by his mere presence.

Amongst the jocks of the school, Tristan was treated as an almost god-like figure. Every class Tristan ever attended resulted in a mass swarming of students, like the paparazzi around a secluded pop star, always asking him about exercise tips, training regiments, or even trying to join his current schedule.

Every sports club he ever imagined (and some he didn't) sent recruiters to his doorstep. Hundreds of letters flooded his mailbox from nearly every school across the nation. He spent hours replying to these requests with a stern refusal, saying he didn't even know how to play these sports. Besides, why would the badminton and golf teams even need someone of his physique?

The refusals only served to bring them back with more vigor. They sent scholarships, offering him a free ride through whatever school he wanted. It was too much to deal with, filling out forms into the late night, stating quite clearly he was only a freshman in high school. At this time, he wasn't even considering going to college, nonetheless which one he'd like to go to.

Replying to all the schools was an almost constant job, working him long into the night for weeks on end. Coupled with his training regiment, he found almost no time for school, and his already failing grades were dropping even further.

The final straw came three weeks into the semester when several students attempted their exercises with wearable weights. They however, progressed too quickly, failing to consult a doctor before attempting such a radical step and the result was catastrophic. Their bones were lined with several hairline fractures and their joints were completely destroyed. All their haste brought was the end of their sport dreams.

It was something the school couldn't overlook. Tristan was brought to a conference with the school board, confronting the teen superstar with a compromise.

They agreed if Tristan would keep away from any physical education classes, they would drop the requirements in his degree. They gave that class to him as free time to do what he wanted.

They would even change Tristan's contact information, ensuring the other schools would cease there continuous pestering, until he was ready. Finally, they promised to disband any clubs that continued to pester him for membership. Tristan, seeing no trouble with these terms, agreed and never entered the gymnasium again.

It was an oath he hasn't broken for two years.

Reaching the shed took all of five minutes. Luckily the back entrances a straight path from the office. From there, it was a simple jog down the sloped pathway. The paved road soon gave way at the hills base, level the equipment shed. The road turned sharply to the left into a nearby parking lot for late students and during games, eager fans.

The shed was about fifty feet off the road, just right of the parking lot and left of the track field. It was a fairly small building, only about ten by five feet and it was made of very cheap, speckled wood that had warped and cracked from years of exposure. The sports clubs often complained about it and eventually stopped using it altogether for its original purpose. Now it stands as a dead building because the school won't spend the time or money to demolish it.

Tristan didn't care for the building much, but it was great for observing the scenery. He knocked on the wood, ensuring it was solid and placed his foot in one of the larger holes. It didn't take much effort, which made sense with his weights off. This building was fragile and he didn't want to leave anything to chance.

The roof was the same as it always was, a simple sloped thatch roof thrown together by lazy workers. Aside from the flaking paneling, a large hole was on the opposite side of the wall, a token to one of his less enjoyable moments.

Still, he came here to gaze at the scenery, not some hole in the roof. He tested another spot before sitting down to stare at the horizon. The forest was perfect at this angle, pines and firs spreading for acers, all intertwined in a familiar yet chaotic pattern. There was something profound about it that allowed him to stare at it for hours on end. He never felt more peaceful anywhere else.

The chanting song bubbled up to the surface, like an old memory and played its relaxing tune faintly in his ears. It fit perfectly with the calming atmosphere that encompassed him and he left it to fill his mind. It soon reached his lips where the tune rang forth in a dull hum.

"Hey, Tristan." The sudden noise startled him, knocking him off balance. He was just barely able to catch himself before he fell into the gaping hole again. It took him a moment to suppress his panic but Dom continued to talk: "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he gasped, clutching his panting chest, "I'm fine. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

"Sorry about that I wasn't trying to surprise you," Dom replied.

Tristan leapt down from the shack to talk with him. That sudden shock had ruined the entire mood.

"What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Well I had a test today, so they let me leave as soon as I was done. I thought you might be here so I thought I'd give you some company." He kept looking around, his gaze avoiding Tristan to stare into the distance. Tristan didn't take much notice though; he had a problem with keeping eye contact since he first met him.

"Well, I guess that makes sense," Tristan replied.

"Anyway, I didn't know you liked Zelda," Dom said, strangely intrigued.

"Who's Zelda?" Tristan replied.

"Its not a person, it's a video game." He sounded slightly off balance, surprised by Tristan's ignorance.

"Video games?! You know I don't have time for things like that!"

Dom was intrigued by Tristan's strange answers. Was Tristan trying to hide something? Of course he was, but what? Then it hit him. Tristan must've been a game fanatic. He just didn't want to stain his reputation as a hard worker: He replied jokingly, "Come on Tristan, I won't breathe it to a soul."

"Wah?"

"You know," Dom whispered in his ear, "About your game fetish."

Tristan blushed when his thoughts turned elsewhere: "How many times do I have to tell you? I, don't, play, video games!" He barked.

"Your serious," Dom replied dumbfounded, "Then how do you know the song of time?"

"Song of what?"

"Song of time, you were humming it when I was coming down the hill. Tell me, if you've never even heard of The Legend of Zelda, how do you know that song?"

Tristan knew he was backed into a corner. He wasn't lying, he never even heard of the Legend of Zelda until now. Was he making it up to get a rise out of him? No, Dom was too benevolent to try such manevolent stabs at his pride. Still, the actual truth was hardly believable.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Tristan replied honestly.

Dom looked him straight in the eyes, the same as this morning with a calm patience, like he was playing a chess match. He felt the tremendous concentration in his gaze, creating an intense pressure that made him feel extremely uneasy.

"Try me," he said, Tristan expected a long-winded speech but those two words had more impact than any lecture.

Tristan buckled: "Alright, but please believe me, I'm not making this up."

"Don't worry Tristan," Dom said smiling, the stifling atmosphere wisped away like a cooling wind, "I know you wouldn't lie to me."

The story wasn't too long but it felt like forever. The worries just spilled out of him like water and Dom was a willing vessel for his anxiety. He told him about the ticking and the song and whatever scraps of his dream he still remembered.

When Tristan finished weaving his elaborate tale, Dom spoke again: "That's pretty hard to believe. I think you've been under too much stress recently and its finally starting to get the better of you."

"Come to think of it, the noise did stop when I came here to relax."

"I thought so, you just need to get some rest."

"You really think so?"

"I know so," Dom looked at his watch, he had about fifteen minutes before the senior lunch bell rang and he wanted to get in line first: He told Tristan he had to run and before Tristan could even wave goodbye, he was already running back up the hill.

A slight chuckled grin covered Tristan's face, "_That guy and his food. How does he eat all that, never exercise, and still stay thin?"_

He didn't ponder about it too long, he had fifteen minutes to finish his routine afternoon jog. He thought a mile with his weights would be sufficient to get his blood pumping and still give him enough time to relax.

The more he jogged, the more convinced he was of Dom's deductions. The noise did stop after he left the nurse's office. Maybe he really should take the day off. In fact, he was certain of it, after he finished his light exercise; he decided to skip school for the day.

The jog didn't take long; only about five minutes but he was still fairly sweaty. He went to the equipment shed and changed into some new clothes he brought in his tote bag. It was fairly simple, a pair of jeans with a wide bottom to hide his ankle weights and t-shirt with a simple icon of a gold triad in a red circle. Dom got it for his birthday one year, saying he'd love it. The only reason Tristan even though of wearing this thing was because all his other clothes were in the wash and his mom still needed to do the laundry. Oh well, its only for one day, and he wouldn't even be around the school. All he needed to do was go back home.

A loud siren rang all over campus. Tristan opened the shed to see but didn't think much of the alarm. It was probably some punk trying to get out of class for a few minutes. He was surprised they weren't excused this week for the usual bomb threat some prankster phoned in.

He turned to pick up his tote bag when a plume of smoke caught his eye. It really was a fire, and a big one to judging from the thick pillar. Tristan ran with all haste to the school, hoping he could help in some way.

Screams rang all over the building as students abandoned their traditional drill and flooded out the doors. The white flashing lights and fire siren only added to the chaos and by the time Tristan got there, he had to push through a sea of people.

It was like being blasted with a water cannon, as the panicked students smashed into him like rocks. Tristan's progress was slow and he could barely keep his balance in the blasting torrent. Still, he had to press on, if he fell now, he would no doubt be trampled.

Tristan finally squeezed into the building after three minutes of constant pounding. The flow of people died down, but it was still a difficult path to traverse. He nearly got lost at every twist and turn. It was like navigating a maze, a maze full of swarming rats, attempting to escape their slapped together home.

Tristan could see the smoke filling the hallways so he knew he was getting close. He just needed to crawl the rest of the way to keep from breathing in the smoke. He turned the corner, and saw it wasn't the chemistry lab that was on fire.

It was the gym.

Tristan couldn't believe how big the fire had gotten over such a short time. The laminated floor was covered with large patches of red flame as it fell from the burning supports on the roof. It was spreading through the place wildly; it was already licking at the only entrance to the place. Still, the thing that made this place truly horrid was the painful cries that rang out with the black smoke. He knew he needed to do something quickly.

Several teachers were filling buckets with water from the chemistry lab next door and throwing it into the blazing inferno. Others managed to grab fire extinguishers from their classes and were spraying all its contents into the gym. It was all they could do to keep the fire from spreading even further. Tristan grabbed one of the buckets, yanking it from the hands of his physics teacher.

"What are you doing?" The teacher said startled.

Tristan dumped the water over his head, hoping it would give him a little more time to finish his crazy deed. The teacher tried to hold him back, telling him what he was doing was crazy but he pushed him away and leapt into the blazing inferno.

Waves of heat and smoke pounded him with every step he took and fire danced across his legs, singing his jeans. The only thing that kept him going was the sounds of death that howled though his brain.

The first student wasn't too hard to find, the nearby basketball hoop had fallen on his ankle, crushing and tearing it to a bloody pulp. Tristan acted quickly and lifted the goal off his foot. He lifted the boy onto his shoulders and continued on through the firestorm.

It was difficult carrying the person and it impeded his progress even more. The heat was bashing him from all sides and the smoke was making him light headed. He wouldn't survive for much longer in here.

He pushed on, finding the rest of the students huddled in a corner screaming for dear life. Tristan walked over with and told them everything would be all right now. One of them leapt at him, grabbing the front of his shirt and stared at him with a most condescending look. Tristan vision was slightly blurred from the heat but he recognized it was George from Markus's gang.

He screamed at him with slight hysteria: "What are you doing here Tristan?!"

"I'm here to get you out of here!" Tristan yelled. He could barely hear himself over the surging blaze: "Can anyone still walk?!"

Three of the eight students stood up. He didn't recognize most of them but he noticed Cliff was here too. Including George, they should be able to get everyone out of here in one go. George however was shaking him violently.

"Tristan, Markus's gone mad!"

"Markus? What does he have to do with this?!"

"Markus has gone off the deep end, the moment he got to school he-he"

"George, get a hold of yourself, what happened?"

"He-he threw a Molotov cocktail into the gym, hoping you were having class there and ran off. He barred all the other entrances and threw me in here to keep me quiet."

"_Markus, you are the worst of scum._"

"Tristan, you've got to get me out of here. Please please please I don't wanna die." George collapsed to the ground, crumpled in a miserable ball of submission.

Tristan slapped him across the face: "George, snap out of it!" He knelt down to touch his shoulder and look him in the eye: "We'll get out of here, but you have to listen to me alright?" His tone was firm yet gentle.

George returned the look with a simpering nod, indicating that he understood: "Good, everyone, take someone on your shoulder and follow me!"

It was even tougher to go on than before. His track shoes had almost completely melted, making every step feel like he was walking through glue. Halfway across the gym, Tristan abandoned the gunk and ran on in his socks.

Everything was going well, the people behind him were keeping with him and pushing on with a vigor he had never seen. They were almost out, the door was right in front of them.

A snap came from above and a ceiling beam toppled down on the miniature rescue party. Everyone panicked and ducked but they all knew they couldn't get away in time. Tristan however, stood firm, lifting his hands to catch it, calling on a strength he knew he didn't have.

The board slammed into Tristan's hands, nearly breaking every bone in his arms but still he endured, holding the large piece of flaming wood with all the strength he could muster.

He yelled at George, "Get everyone out of here now!"

George didn't hesitate. He gave Tristan an affirming nod and picked up Tristan's shoulder mate. Carrying both students ran for the other side of the gym.

When they were all away, Tristan tried throwing the board, only to realize he had reached his limit. The smoke was making him dizzy and his vision was fading. He knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

The song from before came more loudly than ever. This time however, they seemed warped as it slowed to a grinding halt. It felt almost errie, even amongst the intense flames that surrounded him.

Tristan, with his last moment of conciseness, turned to look at George and say one final sentence: "George, you will be a great man… someday."

His knees gave way and he fell into darkness.

* * *

**Authors Note:** I'll leave it to you about what happens next. Please leave a review. I'm especially concerned about the last section. I think the pace is a little too fast and I want to know what you think about it. Also, I want to know about the dialogue. Did it sound realistic?

Anyway, anything specific I might have overlooked would be nice to know. If you found it enjoyable, tell me in a review. I love to hear anything good you have to say about my story (frankly who dosen't?).

Thanks again for reading, I've already started the next chapter so hopefully I'll have it up soon. Trust me, I've been awaiting this moment as much as any of you so I'll get it done ASAP.


	5. Lost in Lost Woods

**Author's Note: **Here's the chapter like I promised.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own neither the characters nor the story of The Legend of Zelda but I do own Tristan.

Chapter 4: Lost in Lost Woods

The cold winters chill gently stroked Tristan's exposed arms as his body lied limply on the ground. He was only half conscious, his mind a choking mist that rocked his uncollected thoughts like leaves in the wind. He couldn't even squeeze his fingers into a fist or even crack his eyelids.

Every bone in his body creaked and ached with a tingling soreness. It felt so numb and distant, like he was already dead. It wouldn't surprise him if that were the case; he should've known his actions would've killed him one day. Everyone always joked about it but he didn't think it would actually happen.

Still, if he was really gone, then why was the ground so damp?

A mighty crack of thunder jostled his body and his eyes snapped open. His body jerked, coughing and gagging violently to expel large amounts of soot, phlegm, and blood from his burning lungs, replacing it with fresh clean air inhaled in deep, gasping breaths. His esophagus was rubbed raw and every breath ignited an explosive burst in his throat.

Tears slid constantly down his face as his dry eyes cried out in agony. His vision was reduced to a blurry haze that decorated his regurgitated lungs with splotchy watercolors. He wanted to rub them to alleviate the pain, but his arms were anchored to the ground.

For what seemed like an eternity, waves of pain engulfed his fragile body and wracked his mind with grief. He didn't think it was possible for anyone to be in such agony. He almost wished he really were dead. Slowly though, the pain subsided as most of the irritants were expelled from his body.

His blurred vision was becoming clearer and he could soon discern his surroundings. The wind blew ever across the small clearing, whistling through the thick screen of leaves that abundantly coated the trees. Small beams of light crept through every open spot in the canopy, leaving a very dim glow on the grass and mud beneath his feet. This was obviously a forest, but it was certainly bigger than any he had ever seen.

The setting looked comforting, but it somehow held a strange sense of patience. He familiar sounds of squirrels scurrying through the grass or birds chirping above the canopy failed to reach his ears. Only the sound of the wind and the occasional pitter-patter of water sliding from the leaves played their monotonic chorus. It made him uneasy, like prey being stalked by a stealthy predeator he couldn't see.

One of the inevitable millions of question soon bubbled up to his lips: "Where am I?" He said it aloud to quell the ever-growing tension around him but it only made him panic even more. He was certain he said something but the voice seemed so alien to him. It was high-pitched, like a high alto or soprano's voice. His chest was pounding and still that mysterious voice copied him, mimicking his fearful panting.

He clasped his hands over his mouth to stop his breathing and like that, the voice ceased as well. What was going on? Was that really his voice? No, it wasn't possible; his mind was just playing tricks with him, that's all.

But his hands felt different too, and it wasn't the mud they were caked with. They were so soft and gentle when normally they'd have hard calluses from his pull up routine. These didn't feel like the hands of an accomplished body builder. He hesitated and even jerked back a bit but eventually his hands pulled themselves into view.

The sight shocked him. His hands were only a fraction or their previous size and his fingers looked like mini sausages attached to his unscarred palms. He turned them, over and over again, trying to dispel some kind of illusion but it stayed. This wasn't his hand, it couldn't be! It just couldn't!

He mustered the strength to lift himself up but found it difficult to keep his balance. His head was still spinning wildly from delirium and he slipped uncontrollably in the mud. He tried running, thinking it would be easier to equal out the weight. He was right, but he stepped on a particularly slick patch of mud and he tumbled onto his back.

He sat up and rubbed his now aching head profusely, staring at his feet. He wasn't wearing any shoes, only a now completely destroyed pair of ankle socks. He pulled them off to reveal his tiny bear feet that seemed to shrink even more than his hands. Not only that, his legs, his arms, even his clothes had shrunk. He had to be dreaming, this couldn't be real! But if it was a dream, then how could he feel pain?

Then, something warm vibrated faintly on his back. Startled, he reached back with his trembling right hand and grabbed the object. He thought at first it was just a heat flash or something crawling on his back but this felt strange, metallic. He slowly pulled the object over his shoulder, surprised by its weight, and dropped it on his lap. He almost gasped when he saw it was a sheathed sword.

The sheath was made out of plain, knotted wood with a simple polish to prevent splintering. A simple twine string was sewn between two small holes on either end of the sheath, probably to secure it to his back. It was hardly an eye catcher like he'd seen in his textbooks.

The weapon itself was even blander than the sheath. No decorative emblem, no embroidered jewels, no intricate designs, it looked more like a slab of iron shaped like a sword. At least he assumed it was iron, since it had a similar look and feel to his weights. It felt warm, like freshly baked bread and he embraced it, sheltering it from the biting cold and accepting its warmth.

While the weapon was comforting, it proved to be the end of his denial. The short sword was only about a foot long at most and it was as tall as he was sitting down. It was something difficult to accept but it was true, he had shrunken.

He wanted to cry, but all his tears had dried out. His body was withering away like a dry husk and he could feel his entire it squirming with desperation. He needed water; lots and lots of water and the lump in his through told him clearly what would happen if he didn't get it in a few hours.

He laid the sword in its sheath and gently threw it over his shoulder. He felt vulnerable, not having the weapon in his hand, but it was so heavy he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it for very long.

The sun was already halfway past its peak. He knew he only had a few more hours of daylight left; and without water, only a few more hours to live.

Trudging through the forest was proving very exhausting. Trees of various widths grew only feet apart from each other, creating a thick screen of branches and leaves that whipped him continuously. The mud slipped easily, causing him to slip a half step for every step he took. All he could really do to prevent it was a simple branch to use as a walking stick but it was of little help, just a extra leg to walk on.

The forest itself was filled with the possibilities of many dangers. Snakes could easily bite his exposed feet or spiders lurking between the branches could strike in passing. There might've even be bears or wolves or even bigger creatures lurking just out of sight. He had to constantly keep up his guard for anything that moved and that took even more energy.

The forest also had a wicked way of mocking him. He noticed several mushrooms growing near the bases of trees, thriving on the excess water that dripped down from them. He knew though you were dancing with the devil eating mushrooms, even if you knew what your doing. It still made his stomach growl at the sight.

It wasn't only limited to mushrooms. Strange brightly colored occasionally fell from the trees, ranging from purple to yellow to speckled red. He knew brightly colored things were poisonous in the wild and he wasn't about to test his luck with these.

There was water everywhere. It saturated the ground, soaked the trees from leaf to trunk, even small puddles would form from in the ground but all of it was brown and murky. He was surrounded by water and yet he couldn't drink any of it.

His clothes and body were completely caked with mud. It made it feel like he was wearing his weights all over again. For a while, he kept traveling with the handicap. It allowed him to cope by remembering the weights he used to wear. After a half hour though, he decided it was too cumbersome to deal with.

He found a nearby hallow where the ground had collapsed beneath a tree. He took off his shirt and pants and hung them, and his sword on a nearby tree branch. He still didn't have any water, so he couldn't properly clean them but at least he could beat the crusted mud off them.

He carefully shaved any mud that stuck to his face and hair. Most of it flaked off easily, but some pieces were stubborn, taking some skin with them. It was worth it though, to have all that weight off his chest but even in such a short time, he was completely exhausted. He decided to rest in the tree hallow for a few minutes and catch his breath. Maybe even rest his eyes, for a, moment.

A little girl with pointed ears stared at the clearing where the boy slept peacefully. Children often got lost in the woods and she had seen many of them before. Over her years of wandering, she witnessed tens of innocent children wandering frantically through these woods, hoping their house lay just around the next tree. She often laid paths for them to follow, but mostly they ignored them and ran deeper into the woods. More often than not, the children would run until darkness set and the forest claimed them, body and soul.

This boy was different though. She watched him for a while waiting for him to turn his back or be distracted so she could lay a sign to lead him out. She even dropped fruits from the trees for him to eat but he sidestepped them all with a disgusted look on his face. Children would normally eat them without hesitation but he avoided the fruit like it was poisonous.

His movements were strange as well, it had been over half and hour since she first found him but his fear had yet to over come him. Certainly he was worried, his step was faster than before and his face was shifted with worry. However, he seemed to keep a level head, which showed maturity unlike anything she had ever seen before.

She was told for years never to make contact with the people from the outside world but her curiosity was coming over her. The strict discipline resisted, reminding her of the consequences of directly helping him, but it wasn't enough. Step by step, she inched her way closer, moving out of the safety of her nearby bush and walked into the clearing.

The first thing that nipped at her curiosity was the clothes that hung neatly on a nearby branch. She'd never seen material like this before. It seemed rough in texture and had holes around the waistline. It seemed didn't seem comfortable, functional, or even fashionable.

Then there was the shirt. It was similar to her tunic but it wouldn't even cover his waist. She blushed slightly thinking of wearing this without pants. It was white too, people usually wore brown or even blue on rare occasions but never white. There was an emblem on the front and though it was blurred by mud, it looked like the Triforce enveloped in a red circle.

Her curiosity had reached its peak as the delicate fingers reached for the sword. It reacted violently when she touched it, vibrating wildly in her delicate hand. It shook her off quickly and left her hand numb: She gripped it gingerly with her other hand, trying to rub some feeling back into it, "_What was that?_" She thought. She had never felt anything like that. Maybe the Great Deku Tree would know more about it.

She had to get a better look at this boy. Everything about him was completely different from normal children. He was just too… weird. She pulled off the leaves he used to board up the hole, and came the closest she ever had to a lost child.

She lurched when she saw his rounded ears. They felt so hideous and unnatural like someone without his arm or a leg. He looked incomplete, only half of a normal creature. He was a monster.

She felt the urge to run but her body stayed put. Despite the ears, he looked so peaceful; lying on his side against the gnarled roots as if it was a bed. She felt guilty, ashamed at her swift conclusion.

Still skeptical that a person like this could even exist; she touched his exposed cheek gently with her right hand. He felt so vulnerable as his body shivered weakly beneath her hand. His skin was icy to the touch and extremely dry. He needed water fast.

She stood up and turned to leave. She probably couldn't reach the pond in time, but she could at least get him something moist to eat.

Her thoughts stopped her midway. Why did she care so much for this boy? It was probably just a skull kid playing tricks on her. Besides, even if he was real, he was just a half-person, a monster by all standards.

She didn't understand the turbulent emotions that ran through her bosom but this boy seemed special to her somehow. She felt like a mother nurturing an abandoned child and just like a mother, she would protect him with her life.

She jumped when she felt his frozen hand snatched her wrist.

Tristan was kicking himself for falling asleep in this forest; a bear or whatever wandered through these woods could've eaten him. And all the precious time he wasted sleeping.

The little girl let out a cry of pain that knocked him back to his senses. He softened his iron grip but still held on, wondering why this girl was here in the first place. She turned and looked at him with a twinge of fear in her green eyes.

She was beautiful, if but a little different. Her attire was fairly simple, only a leaf green dress and a pair of green leather boots. Both items showed signs of wear and tear, obviously she was used to traveling but her face was truly unique. Her ears were pointed like the elves Dom was always happy to lecture about and her hair shared the same forest green hue as her dress. She seemed more like a forest spirit than a child.

His hand went slack at the mere sight of her and she wrestled her wrist free, rubbing it gingerly with her left hand. She muttered something under her breath that he assumed was some kind of curse.

Tristan noticed that she landed with her legs spread wide, revealing her green undergarments. He blushed at the sight but he didn't feel the need to stare. On the contrary, a shameful sense of modesty washed over him and his eyes quickly darted away.

The girl took notice quickly but realized the boy was only in his underwear. They both bashfully but quickly turned away from each other, the rushing blood turning their faces beet red.

An awkward silence hung between the two children for what felt like ages before Tristan spoke up: "E-excuse me but, could you get my clothes? They should be outside on a nearby branch."

Another long pause before Tristan repeated the request: "Could you please get my clothes?" He waited a little while longer before turning around to ask a third time, only to have his clothes thrown into his face. The girl sat at the entrance, giggling slightly but leaving him alone to change.

It didn't take long but it proved more difficult than usual. The mud had solidified on his clothes, making them fairly inflexible and crusty. He wished he had a spare outfit to change into but he would just have to live with this.

It took a bit of climbing to get out of the base. The roots were glazed with thin sheets of ice and frost. Sometimes they even seemed to wriggle when he stepped on them. It was inevitable that he'd slip and fall. When this was all over, he would be glad to never see water or mud again.

The girl stuck her head inside, hearing the commotion and said something with a worried tone. It was a completed different language, one filled with several soft vowels that Tristan could barely pull apart into words.

"I'm fine," Tristan replied, answering the supposed question. It was the girl's turn to look confused. Dosen't she understand English? Everyone he knew could at least speak a little English. Maybe she just didn't catch it.

Then he remembered in their tense encounter that he had forgotten to introduce himself: "My name's Tristan, what's yours."

She looked even more confused then before, maybe even slightly worried. He pointed at himself saying very slowly, "I, am, Tristan."

The girl responded with a little strain: "Tree-su-tahn"

"Yeah, my, names, 'Tristan'," He said, confirming her guess. He pointed the finger at her "What's your name?"

She pointed her finger at him, "Tri-stan." She said, straining her speech. At least she was getting better.

She pointed the finger at herself, "Tri-stan."

He almost fell over in shock. She must've thought, "Tristan" meant "person". He pointed at himself again, this time using both his forefingers for emphasis: "No, _I _am Tristan,"

"You? Tri-stan?" She said pointing at him, Tristan nodded his head both times in approval and she almost jumped with glee. She pointed at herself again: "I, Saria."

"Saria," Tristan said with annunciated vowels. She didn't take well to the pronunciation and said it again. She had to repeat it over three times before he got it but at least she understood him a little.

She pointed at the tree, "Tri-stan!" She said with great enthusiasm, like she knew something no one else did. Something told Tristan this was going to be a long day.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Please review. Did you think it flowed well? Did I add enough discription? Anything wrong I missed? What about the ending scene, did you like it? I would love to know about any problems so I can fix them ASAP.

If you didn't find anything wrong with it, review anyway. I would love to hear what I'm doing right so please, leave a review. Good or bad, it will help me in some way.

I have a new poll regarding this story so please go to my profile page and submit your vote. You might very well see a new face soon enough.


	6. Tristan's Trial

**Authors Note: **Sorry for the wait. School is a little difficult to get back into.

I'd like to give a shout out to everyone whose left reviews so far. I greatly appreciate your commentary and praise. I especially want to thank 4th Triforce Piece for his ideas. I hope you'll continue to comment on each of my chapters.

But enough of me rambling, onto the chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own neither The Legend of Zelda nor any of its characters, but Tristan is mine.

The Passage of Time

Chapter 5: Tristan's Trial

Saria was a little worried when Tristan looked slightly disappointed. Did she say something wrong? She went back down into the hole now that Tristan had finished getting dressed and grabbed his right arm. She threw the limp limb over her shoulder, and told him to hold on tight.

Every minute she remained in this boy's presence brought more and more questions. What language was he using just now? She never heard anything like it before. It was filled with extended vowels and hard constantans. It proved difficult for her to utter even a single syllable of the alien language. How in Hyrule could this boy possibly speak it so quickly and fluently?

She grabbed the roots and started climbing. She could hardly see why the boy was having so much trouble with this; these roots were just as easy to scale as any other tree. But this "Tri-stan" slipped on every other root he placed his foot and he gripped her, nearly dragging her back down in the process. Every step he took was lopsided and extremely clumsy. She was left to wonder if this boy had ever walked, nonetheless climbed in his life.

Of course, maybe it wasn't his inexperience that limited his ablilties, but his weakness. His skin felt cold and clammy against the back of her neck and about halfway up, he was gasping for breath.

For several minutes, Saria had to steady herself and the sloppy weight next to her with every step they took, hoping the boy didn't lose his grip on her. Eventually though, after some quick thinking and close calls, Saria pulled both of them over the lip and into the clearing.

Tristan's legs gave out beneath him as they came into contact with the soft earth. He couldn't believe he had so much trouble climbing a mere five or six feet. Where was his indomitable strength when he needed it?

The endeavor also left Saria gasping for breath, but she was quick to recover. She walked over to Tristan, who by now, had propped himself against the large tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps: She pointed her finger at him, "UEn Reii."

Tristan sat clueless, unable to decipher anything she was saying. She tried again, this time holding her forefinger straight up: "Ani soia ka krai hilau. Oi?"

Considering the hand gesture, Tristan could only assume she'd be back in a minute. She backed away slowly, making sure he understood to stay where he was. She didn't want him to move and waste anymore water than he already had. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she turned away and jumped into the bushes.

A giant lump had formed in Tristan's throat as seconds became minutes. It was getting difficult to breathe, which was only worse now that he was out of breath. He could feel his brain thumping painfully against his head as some of the colors changed from green to red to purple. He prayed to god that Saria brought back at least some water.

Saria entered the clearing from a nearby bush, almost dropping the yellow-spotted fruit in her hands. The boy had collapsed against the tree, his head spinning weakly in circles. Saria rushed over to him. His freezing body offered no resistance as Saria's gentle hand tilted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed over. The only sign he was even alive was the faint, course drafts of air that escaped his lips.

Saria picked up one of the fruits and pressed it against his lips: "Nil! Nil!" Still, the boy did not reply, only staring blankly into her forest green eyes, which were on the verge of tears. She resorted to prying open his mouth and squeezing the liquids from the fruit. She didn't know if it would work, but it was all she could think to do.

Tristan quickly responded; coughing sporadically as the liquids trickled down both pipes. Saria was overcome with panic and joy all at once. She placed another piece of fruit in his hand saying "Nil" once again.

He looked at the fruit with slight distrust. It felt poisonous in some way with that bright yellow color and it made his stomach churn. But Saria gave them this fruit, guessing she wanted him to eat it. He couldn't imagine a sweet girl like her would even think of killing him. Besides, why would you try to poison an already dying man? He brought the fruit to his lips and took a large bite from it.

It tasted like a tart apple, banana mixture. He let the juicy pulp swirl around his taste buds momentarily before swallowing the morsel. He tore into the fruit, ravenously ripping away at the lumpy flesh in large chunks. Saria could only stare with slight disgust at the brutal display of ravenous hunger. He almost ate the core he was so excited. Tristan went through about three pieces of fruit, all about the size of his chest before even taking the time to breathe.

He let out a satisfied sigh when he finally finished and fell on his back. He was too exhausted to notice earlier, but the forest was simply breathtaking. The life had returned as birds' flew across the canopy, chirping merrily as there wings caught the gentle winter breeze. The was climbing the tree above him with a few other friends. One bird even landed on Saria's shoulder, chirping something that made her giggle with glee.

And still the dark rain clouds loomed overhead, dampening his recuperating spirit. A flash of lightning illuminated the clearing with an ominous light and scared away the animals, leaving the two alone in the clearing once more.

The eye of din was falling beneath the horizon. Saria couldn't see the fiery blessing of the goddess through the thick blanket of cloud, but she could feel the darkness thicken as it did every night. It was no wonder the animals fled while they could, even she was not immune to the magic's that filled this place at night. She rushed over to Tristan and pulled his sleeve.

"Tri-sstahn, ein hav d 3inj ."

Tristan looked at her with confusion as he got up. Did she want him to follow? Without even looking to see if he understood, Saria climbed up a nearby tree to scout the area. The light was dim but she could see the faint outline of the village about half a kilometer north north west of their current position. If they left now, they should get there with plenty of time to spare

Tristan sat at the base, waiting for Saria to come down. The food had cleared his head and now hundreds of unanswered questions were buzzing in his head. Where on Earth was this place? Maybe he was in some rural area of the world, like the forests in Eastern Europe. No, that wasn't likely; the trees in this forest had large fan leaves. He knew from the forest at the school that these trees lose there leaves during the fall equinox. The fierce wind and frigid temperatures obviously indicated the arrival of winter, yet none of the leaves had yet to wilt and crumple. It gave the forest a magical atmosphere, something he never felt back on Earth.

Then the idea hit him, maybe he could call for help on his cell phone. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the pocket phone, surprised that it had shrunken like the rest of his belongings. Now all he needed to do was call someone to pick him up. He flipped open the razor, but the screen was black and dead. Condensation had formed inside the screen, which only served to frustrate him even more. He didn't know anything about how these things worked but even he knew it was broken.

Even if he could call someone, how would they find him? He didn't even know what general area if the planet he had been whisked off too.

Saria dropped down from the tree just as Tristan slid the phone back into his pocket. She ran over and pulled on his shirt again, this time pointing away in a separate direction: "JJta ya!"

Without even waiting for a reply, Saria rushed off in the direction she had pointed.

"Waitaminute," Tristan said as fast as he could. He almost thought she'd be out of earshot by the time he finished. Luckily she stopped, "Let me get my stuff."

He picked up the sheathed weapon but stopped to look at it. He could've sworn he just saw it rumbling just now, but when he touched it, it didn't vibrate at all. Saria was staring at him, her foot thumping the ground. He slung the sword on his back and followed her into the woods.

"Saria! Wait or me!"

Tristan desperately stumbled through the foliage in a futile attempt to keep up with the speedy nymph. She danced gracefully over and around the branches and trees like they weren't even there. She only stopped to occasionally and gave him an irritated glance, just before flying out of sight

She had good reason for being uneasy with Tristan's slow speed. The forest shadows were lengthening fast and the vibrant hues were loosing there shining luster. Saria had witnessed the horrible magic that coursed through these woods many a time, even to some of her fellow villagers. She had to get out of here quickly, but this boy was so incredibly slow. Maybe she could run ahead, save her own skin and leave the boy to his inevitable fate.

NO! There was no way she could do that. She pounded a clenched fist against her head, punishing herself for even considering such a vile deed. If they were going to get out of here, they would do it together.

"_Oh Farore, bring us safely through this night._"

While their progress was much slower than Saria hoped for, they were still making decent time. She might've reached the village's edge by now if she was alone, but even now they were already three fourths of the way there. They should be able to reach the village with time to spare.

But something evil was forming around them, watching them, stalking them. She flipped to the ground in a way that would make a gymnast proud, hitting the earth with a dull thud. She stopped Tristan with her hand as he stumbled through a particularly thorny bush. He felt greatly relieved for the break, and supported himself on his knees to catch his breath.

Saria was still alert, ready for an attacker that lay just out of sight. She could feel the concentrated darkness taking tangible form somewhere nearby. She had felt a presence similar to this before, but only about one or twice in her entire life and never this strongly. The Great Deku Tree often warned her to flee at the first signs, no mater how small it seemed, and return to village immediately.

She grabbed Tristan's arm, yanking it vigorously: "Tri-stan, ein zeu d je Nvu!"

But it was too late. Saria and Tristan stared in horror as a large mound of bones broke the soil behind them. They lifted though the air in a pillar of read light amassing and collecting into a sentient form. Its joints connected together with loud pops and cracks. The two children only had time to turn their heads before the animated form was fully assembled

Tristan was completely paralyzed with fear. It was all he could do to keep from wetting himself. The lumbering giant of a skeleton towered over the frightened children, staring down menacingly with a bright red light that filled its eye sockets. Its shoulder pads hung loosely on its broad shoulders, clanking and grinding stiffly against it bony joints. It carried a battered sheathed long sword on its hip. The size fit the warrior perfectly but it was bigger than either of the children.

Saria could only quiver in terror. She had only heard about these things in the Great Deku Tree's tales. Soldiers slain in battle, their souls were brought back using powerful sorcery and were forced to reanimate a corpse that had been left to rot for centuries. These undead warriors were given the name "Stalfos"

The fire in its sockets blazed with great vigor. It was rare indeed to find a Kokiri, especially in the presence of a Hyilian. His master would be pleased indeed.

Saria quickly shook off her fear and was contemplating a way to escape. The Stalfos was large and bulky and she knew this forest well. If she ran now, she could easily loose the lumbering giant in the woods. She could do it, but that meant leaving the boy to die. Wasn't there some way for both of them to live?

The sound of an unsheathed sword rang through the forest, but the Stalfos had yet to draw its weapon. A gentle, yet unexpected shove, knocked Saria off her feet as Tristan pushed her aside.

His knuckles were white as he squeezed the weapon tightly in his hands. Already he could feel the heavy weapon pulling at his arms, turning them red with strain. He put on a brave face in an attempt to mask his fear, but his body was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

The Stalfos cackled loudly at the pathetic sight. The child's stance was that of an amateur, leaving several openings around his waist, ankles, and even his wrists. He could easily bring this child down with one stroke, but that wouldn't be very fun. His master only called upon him one every few decades, and when his job was done, he would be sent back to the earth to await his next command.

the weapon he held intrigued him. Despite its lackluster appearance, the weapon was well crafted with a fine edge. He could tell that only the strongest swordsmen were lucky to see a blade like this yet this child, whose level was even below a novice, managed to acquire one.

The Stalfos's bony hand took hold of his sword, eager for a prolonged battle. The rusty weapon grinded loudly as it was forcibly removed from its sheath, cemented there by decades of rust. The Stalfos couldn't hear the sound, but it brought Saria to her knees. Tristan only maintained his fragile stance through sheer willpower.

The Stalfos tested the weapon, spinning it lightly to test its balance and weight after all these years. Tristan was tempted to attack him then while he was distracted. He knew though the dangers of such. He wielded that blade with such ease, if he attacked then, he would easily cleave his head off. Tristan was going to have to play this smart if he was going to escape.

The long sword blurred through the air and Tristan could barely block the swing at his knees. The Stalfos's swing continued forward and knocked him off balance. It was all he could do just to keep on his feet.

He knew he couldn't take another hit like that.

The Stalfos smirked. He deliberately made the attack slow enough to block. The boy didn't have the strength to stand his ground but the weapon hardly quivered under his strength. That sword was well crafted, despite its lackluster appearance. Where in Hyrule did a child, whose skills were lower than that of a novice, come to acquire such a blade?

He felt like grinning but alas could not. This boy was probably luring him into a trap with this weak ploy. Maybe, the boy was just waiting for him to drop his guard and then, the killing blow would come. Exileration surged though his old bones, this was a challenge that only came once every millennia, he defiantly would have to drag this out.

Tristan recovered and charged the Stalfos, swinging wildly at its legs. The Stalfos easily blocked the slow, lumbering attacks, further testing the child's abilities and the swords powers. The child exposed openings across his entire torso and head. He could finish this now, but he was being cautious. This boy was probably just leaving the opening, a lure to force the predicted attack.

Tristan kept swinging wildly but knew he wasn't getting anywhere. He could feel the swords weight steadily increase as his arms began to fail. He needed to finish this quickly.

In his fear, the child's stamina seemed endless. For over ten minutes, the boy kept batting at his legs to no avail and even now, still refused to go down. The Stalfos was growing bored of the charade; didn't this kid know how to do anything else? He certienly had the endurance of a warrior, but his swordplay was that of a child's. He lifted his steel lined boots, tired of waiting, and kicked the flailing boy square in the chest.

Saria gripped her stomach, feeling the blow as Tristan's body crumpled sickeningly around his foot. Blood erupted from Tristan's mouth as he flew back several feet, his body flipping madly across the ground. She couldn't watch and turned away from the hideous sight.

Tristan slowly lifted his broken body from the ground. That kick had broken a few of his ribs, it was getting difficult to breathe. Every attempt to get back up brought forth a new surge of pain and left him screaming in pain..

The Stalfos wiped the speckled blood from his boots and looked with disappointment at the crumpled mess before him. He was angry, almost furious that he even considered this child a challenge. He was tired of playing around; it was time for the final blow.

Tristan could only watch through watery eyes as the giant skeleton walked slowly over to him, discontent blazing in its empty sockets. He couldn't help but see the irony of the situation. Fate had him survive that fire only to kill him now. And as the blade stabbed downward for the killing strike, Tristan could only resent god for causing such suffering.

Death didn't come, and the Stalfos grunted with irritation. Tristan dared to open an eye to peek. Saria had jumped on its back, holding tightly onto its eye sockets. The Stalfos reached back to pry the irksome girl from his back, but he couldn't get a good grip on her.

Tristan saw his chance. It took all his willpower, just to get back to his feet but this was the only way they'd both make it out alive. He took his sword and with the rest of his remaining strength, threw it straight at the creature's head. Saria saw the attack coming and fell of the thrashing Stalfos.

"_This is our only chance._" Tristan thought, watching the blade in desperate prayer "_If this fails, we're both dead._"

The blade struck home, hitting the stunned Stalfos straight in the forehead. The fragile bone, worn away by centuries of erosion, couldn't withstand the impact and the blade drove itself several inches into the creature's head, only stopping as the weapon tapped the skulls opposing end.

For an instant, the forest stood still, eager to see the result of the blow.

"_Did it work?" _Both Tristan and Saria thought.

The blade fell from the creature's head and made a dull clang on the mud below and the Stalfos stomped it further in. The blade had done tremendous damage, but it was still alive.

It turned to Saria, driving an uppercut into her delicate chest. She actually hovered about a foot over the ground, barely conscious and held tightly in the Stalfos's fist; its eyes burning with intense hatred and rage.

"kYa bansalei, ae FeR d lian naiel!!"

The Stalfos threw the half conscious girl into Tristan. Tristan felt his splintered ribs pierce his lung, puncturing the balloon and sending an unprecedented wave of pain that his fragile body could hardly withstand. He felt his senses dull and his vision fade into blackness.

The Stalfos walked over to the half dead children, readying his blade for a final cleave. To think these children could even damage him! How revolting!! He swung down, aiming to slash the two together.

His blade stopped mere millimeters from Saria's cheek. The Stalfos pushed with all his strength to push the blade just a hair closer but his body was frozen.

"bezV, ka zuA!"

The Stalfos's body was stiffening. He could feel the magic animating his body spilling from him like blood.

"Great Deku Tree," were The Stalfos's final, rasping words.

Saria awoke in a daze, clutching her throbbing stomach and almost doubling over in pain. She couldn't help but wonder how they were alive. She looked at the mound of dust that had been the Stalfos. Did the Great Deku Tree save them?

She faintly heard voices calling her from somewhere nearby. Faint glowing lights followed soon thereafter. The Kokiri had come to find her, she knew they would be safe.

But Tristan wasn't breathing. His punctured lung had almost completely been exhausted. Now his breaths came shallow if at all.

Saria placed her hand on his shoulder: "Tri-stan, suata!" His body was already losing heat.

"Tri-stan! Treestahn! Tristan!!" Tears streamed down her face and the entire forest resounded with her sorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope you enjoyed the chapter. What did you think of the Hyilian language? Did it sound real? Did I use it too much? Just so you know, it is an actual language you can look up. If your interested in using it in your fanfics, PM me and I'll give you directions to find it.

I'm especially concerned about the ending scene. Was it too fast? Should I extend it? Any spelling and grammar errors? I know I'm prone to them so don't be shy. Is there anything I didn't mention but is a problem? Please leave a review about it.

If you thought it was great, leave a review anyway. Everyone appreciates a good comment now and then.

Anyway, you can still vote in the poll on my profile, but only until the next chapter comes out. So if you haven't voted, VOTE! I'll declare the results in the next chapter.


	7. The Great Deku Tree Part 1

**Authors Note**: Thank you to everyone who's been keeping up with my story. I especially want to thank 4th Triforce Piece for his ideas, I have taken many of them into consideration, and I hope you will give me good ideas in the future.

I have a grotesque dream sequence near the end of this chapter. If you think its too much for younger readers, I'll go back and tone it down a bit. I don't want to raise the rating to M anytime soon. Still, the entire thing is in italics so if you don't want to read it, you can skip over it.

In other news, the poll on my site has officially closed and with a result of 9-2, you guys want a female OC added to the story. I've already got a general idea for her character, but she won't appear for a few more chapters. If you have any suggestions, send me a PM, I'm all ears.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Legend of Zelda of any of its characters. However, I do own Tristan.

* * *

The Passage of Time

Chapter Six: The Great Deku Tree

The storm suddenly grew in intensity. Lightning lit the cloudy sky, wind blew from multiple directions, and blankets of rain relentlessly pounded the exhausted search party. A young boy, about ten years in age lead the way cursing under his breath as yet another branched whipped his freckled spotted face. Stupid Saria! Wandering through these stupid woods by her stupid self!

Two other boys, similar in age, trailed behind, unable to muster the vigor to maintain Mido's fierce pace. A fairly pudgy child fell behind the group; he was the shortest of the three, which only served to promote his fat cheeks and portly waist. Already, he was out of breath and asking to take a break.

The person ahead of him was barely in better condition. While he was much leaner and taller than the child behind, raising even a half inch taller than the boy up front. The torrential rainfall was matting the hair that always hung across his face. He tried to pull it away, but it just swung back to place, splashing his face with cold water.

The two boys in back couldn't believe they let Mido talk them into this. Saria went into these woods everyday and she always came back. So what if she was a little late today, it didn't mean she wasn't coming back at all.

One of them yelled, his voice dampened by the thick rain: "Mido, maybe we should turn back!"

"No!" Mido said stubbornly, "Were not leaving until I find Saria!"

"What makes you think she's even out here?! She could already be back at the village!"

"Just trust me, I know I'm right!"

If they had a deku nut for every time he used that line…. The brothers huddled together to converse in private. Mido was being irrational; they'd been wandering these woods for hours. They were cold, hungry, and miserable and so far, they had just been wandering in circles. This was starting to look like another worthless quest to make Mido look cool in front of the villagers.

They started slinking away while Mido was kicking a tree, when a voice howled through the night.

"Tristan!!"

The shrill had everyone standing on end. The brothers were dumbfounded, that was Saria's voice. Saria was really in trouble? Before they could even turn their heads, Mido had disappeared into the forest.

"Wait for us!" They shouted desperately but Mido had already disappeared into the woods. He couldn't have gone too far, but where did the scream come from? More importantly, which way did Mido go?

Mido was beside himself. It was a good thing Saria screamed when she did, the way they were headed, they would've missed the area altogether. He jumped into the clearing heroically, hoping to save Saria just in the nick of time. But what he saw only made his heart sink. Saria was shacking something desperately, clutching her tunic with her other hand.

"Saria!"

She looked relieved for only a moment before turning back to see him: "Mido! Thank Naryu you're here, -ugh." She fell to her knees, clutching her swollen abdomen tightly. The front of her tunic was stained with blood.

"Saria, what happened to you?!"

"Don't worry, I'm, fine," She panted, her body quivering with every breath.

"No, your not," Mido said, grabbing her free arm, "I'm taking you back to the Great Deku Tree right now!"

"I'm, not leaving, without Tristan."

"Tri-stan? Who's 'Tri-stan'?"

Saria pointed towards the tree, allowing Mido's eyes to follow their path. Mido was left gasping for words at the gruesome sight.

It was a "round ear". Its left side of his chest was completely mangled, his adjacent arm too. A bluish-purple bruise could be seen between the tears in its clothes. He wasn't bleeding like the injury should allow. The only blood he saw was crusted on his lower lip and the spots that stained his strange clothes.

Anger quickly overwhelmed Mido. Stupid thing! This was probably why Saria was hurt so badly. He lifted his boot and kicked it with disgust. It let out a gurgling cough and fresh blood trickled from its quivering lips. The clear weakness didn't faze Mido for even a moment. Saria had to grab his foot to keep him from a second strike.

He turned around, amazed by her persistence: "What are you doing Saria?"

"Please, don't hurt him."

"You would stand up for this, this, thing?!" He said spitting at Tristan's feet.

"He… he saved my life."

"What, this?!" Mido said, restraining a laugh, "Round ears like this would kill you as soon as look at you!"

"Please, don't, hurt him. I'll do anything!"

Mido hoisted her up, raising her eyes to meet his: "Listen to yourself! These things are even lower than the skull kids! You couldn't even compare them to the birds in the sky or the grass beneath your feet! What makes you think he wouldn't kill us as soon as he's recovered?!"

Saria was stunned at first by Mido's blatant anger. She never knew how heartless he could be, she could barely stand to look, but the courage came in time.

"Because," Saria said, conviction shining from her dim eyes, "He's my friend." Her limb body fell into Mido's arms.

The brothers stumbled out of the trees panting for breath: "Mido, did you find Saria?"

Mido turned around, holding the unconscious girl in his arms: "Yeah. Come on, let's get back to the village."

"What about him?" they asked, pointing to Tristan.

Mido thoughts clashed furiously. What did Saria see in that thing? She was so adamant in her request. Did she actually think of it as a**friend**?! He could just leave him there to die, tell Saria that they couldn't save him in time. She'd believe that right? No, she'd hate him forever, even if it were true.

He bit his lip hard, trying to suppress the bile in his words: "Bring him with us. He's… Saria friend."

"Whatever you say Mido!"

Tristan thrashed wildly in the Kokiri oak bed, his body covered in a cold sweat. For the entire day, and late into the night, Saria had attended to the tormented child, committing herself to a tedious and seemingly endless task. Tristan's sheets and clothes had to be changed almost every hour. Luckily, Link had agreed to help fetch new linins and sheets and clean the old ones in the nearby river.

There wasn't any need for bandages. The Great Deku Tree's magic was amazing, they barely got him there alive and still, he healed his wounds instantly. Not even a white mark remained where the chest had collapsed and for that, Saria was thankful.

But the Great Deku Tree could not soothe his mind.

He told her to keep close watch on Tristan until he woke up. He said that even now, Tristan was fighting and only he could vanquish him. She gripped the hard fabric of her tunic, wrinkling the garment between her fingers.

If only there was more she could do

_The forest faded between the realms of existence as Saria pulled him along by his arm as the giant skeleton followed them through the woods._

_For miles they ran through the contrasted mono-colored world, losing the grizzly ghoul only for it to dart around the next corner. It was an eternal game of cat and mouse that was driving him mad. And all the while, Saria pulled him on._

_But then she stopped. Before Tristan even realized, they were surrounded by hundreds of skeletons. The closest one grabbed Saria by her hair, and hoisted her to chest level. She desperately kicked and screamed to get away. _

"_Saria." Tristan screamed, but the words didn't come. He tried to hit the thing's shins, but the thing knew neither pain nor remorse. With one swift kick, he knocked him aside, revealing a wicked smirk as he turned back to the girl. The army withdrew their swords. _

_And the slaughter began._

_Countless blades whirled through the air, cutting through the girl's flesh like paper. Black blood contrasted with her white form, random parts being amputated from her delicate form. And all the while, she screamed louder and yet softer than a helpless newborn._

"_Stop it! Please stop it!!" His lips moved but the words didn't come. Already, the girl was indistinguishable from a pile of meat, her blood spilling from a thousand cuts like water. Her life was already gone, and still the assault continued, staining her gray hair with a dark, spotted black. Tristan felt the urge to throw up, but nothing came. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't be!_

_The torture stopped when only the head remained. The bored skeleton dropped the trinket and it hit the ground with a blood-curdling splash. Her sad, empty eyes, cried with regret and sorrow. He couldn't stand those horrid eyes. Why did they stare with such sorrow, like she had been betrayed?_

_The army menacingly encircled the broken boy, their blades still black with the forest girl's blood._

"_Stop it," he said weakly, his voice quivering. The skeletons marched ever forward._

"_Please, no more." He felt the cold fist grasp his hair and knew the fate that waited._

"_Please,__please, _Stop it!!!"

"Saria!!" A frigid chill, similar and yet unlike the wind, swept through him like a sickness. It felt like his very soul was crying and his body soon followed suit. He buried his face in his knees and the tears poured freely. This had to be a dream; all he wanted was for all of this to be a dream so why did it hurt. Why was this happening to him?!

"Tristan, haRu inuseh?!"

He felt a smooth hand fall on the small of his back. He turned his head, his face still swollen and puffy and saw Saria sitting on a small footstool, her face showing a short of motherly distress. He almost lunged at the startled girl, gripping her like she was about to fade away.

"Saria," he chocked, newly formed tears streaming down his face, "You're alive! I can't believe it, I thought you were… oh Saria, I thought I'd never see you again."

He felt light headed; he wasn't breathing right with his broken ribs. He tried a deeper breath and almost gasped when it went completely in. His right hand reached instinctively across his chest. There was no wound or depression. He stroked it gently, hardly believing his own fingers; the wound had completely healed, but how?

His thoughts were interrupted when a slight breeze blew through his exposed legs. He quickly let go of Saria, turned around, and wrapped the blanket around him, all in one smooth motion. Feelings of modesty and shame raged through his head. He couldn't believe he just broke down like that in front of a girl.

He looked at his new clothes, hoping it wasn't Saria who had changed them. It was pretty simple, consisting of a solid forest green nightgown and a pair of slightly itchy underwear. It was like something straight from a hospital. He could feel the crude stitches beneath his armpit, slightly torn from rugged use.

His eyes continued to span the room. It was fairly spacious, spanning almost fifteen paces in either direction. A thin layer of bark coated the walls and floor. It seemed to grow into the bed, dresser, and anything else that was bolted to the floor. If he wasn't mistaken, it felt more like the inside of a tree than anything else.

The room was big, but hardly large enough for an adult. There was only one bed too. Did that mean Saria lived here by herself?

"Hey, where are your parents Saria?"

Saria didn't respond. He kept forgetting that they didn't speak the same language.

But surprises seemed to follow him at every turn "Tristan," she said, staring at a piece of paper, "Here."

Tristan spun around: "You can speak English?!"

Saria handed him the parchment and turned to leave. It was a strange piece of paper, almost like a really thin piece of wood. He looked at it, wondering what she was up to.

**Tristan**

**I know you're probably scared and confused. There are clothes on the dresser. When your finished come outside, I'll answer any questions you have to the best of my knowledge.**

This was written completely in English, and not broken English like he expected. Could Saria speak English? It didn't make sense. If she could speak his vernacular, then why didn't she do so sooner?

Like the note said, there was a pile of assorted accessories pressed underneath a pair of leather boots. He quickly got up and put the attire on. There wasn't another shirt, just a belt he used to tighten the nightgown around the waist. More and more, this thing was looking like a dress and he felt slightly humiliated wearing it.

There weren't any leggings to go with the boots so slipping his feet in proved difficult. They weren't the best boots he ever wore, but it was better than no shoes at all.

Finally, there was a triangular piece of cloth that folded out into a pouch. The other items were pretty clear, but what was this used for. He put it on his head but quickly took it off. This thing would blow off with the slightest breeze; and besides, who would wear a hat like this anyway? It was probably a pouch of some kind for collecting things. The dress didn't have any pockets so it made sense, but how was he supposed to carry it?

He looked over the entire thing with the polished shield, propped upright on Saria's dresser. He saw a small child stare, younger than Saria even, stare back at him through the ancient war piece. It was the first time he had seen himself since coming to this world. He couldn't believe how alien he looked in those clothes.

The outfit was embarrassing, considering it didn't come with pants; he wasn't used to feeling the wind around his privates. He looked around for a moment for his old clothes, but they were nowhere to be found.

He went back to the mirror and found a wooden brush lying on the dresser. He remembered his hair and ran his fingers through it, finding it surprisingly clean and well groomed. Sure there was still mud between his follicles, but he thought it be much worse.

With that settled he walked through the empty arch, surprised it had no door and stepped out onto the railing. He couldn't believe his eyes, trees everywhere, all lined with similar railings. He turned back to look at Saria's house again in surprise, this house really was a tree. Amazing.

A yell came from below: "Oi!!!, Niua diBn?!"

He looked down and saw Saria waving her hands, gesturing him to come down. It didn't take long, as a ladder was placed just in front of the door. From there it was just a simple slide to the bottom where Saria waited eagerly.

"Alright, lead the way."

Saria firmly gripped his hand and guided him to the wisest thing in all of Hyrule, the Great Deku Tree.

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**Authors Note: **Thanks for reading. I feel a little better about the end of this chapter than the previous ones but tell me what you think. And remember, spelling and grammar have always been a challange. Any specifics you can tell me would be greatly appreciated. 


	8. The Great Deku Tree Part 2

**Authors Note: **Sorry for the wait. I actually had this chapter done, but I lost my flash drive and it took me a few days to find it.

I'd like to thank Orange Headphones, The-Saiyan-from-Hyrule, Sandstorm0301, and fictionfreak93 for your reviews on the last chapter. I truly appreciate your comments and hope you'll submit more about this chapter.

Chapter Seven: The Great Deku Tree Part Two

Tristan trotted obliviously along, lost in the magical atmosphere that permeated the village. Trees of all proportions grew in rough rows on either side, each with a small opening large enough for a child. No two houses were the same; some grew tall and extended far beyond his reach, while others settled for the comforting ground. Either way, flowers and vines of vibrant colors decorated the trees in a complex mesh of vibrant beauty. It truly felt like he had stepped into heaven.

Only the chirping of crickets could be heard as there feet padded the soft dirt path. The air was so fresh and crisp, as it had always been before the break of dawn. It invoked feelings of nostalgia when he recollected the rhythmic feeling of paced jogging, passing the symmetric buildings on either side. It was just so much like home.

Twilight had yet to appear on the horizon yet the path was clearly lit. Small balls of firelight shimmered on the gentle breeze. One even passed across his cheek, leaving slight tingling warmth in its wake. How it reminded him of the street lamps that bathed the city at night, nearly turning it to day at points.

Saria guided the fascinated child gently by the hand at a fairly swift pace. She knew more about the round ears than even Mido, and she knew the uproar that would happen if the children ever found out about this. When she addressed her concerns to the Great Deku Tree, he instructed her to bring him back to see him secretly and that no one could utter a rumor of his existence. Feelings of melancholy stirred in Saria's heart for what she knew would happen, but Tristan deserved to know what his future would be like.

They came to the edge of the village without incident. Saria turned her head, making sure nobody was following them while Tristan eyes widened even further. A large wall stood before them, spanning higher than he could see in the dim light. Small scraggly roots grew weakly out of the rocky soil and gave it the same earthy feel as the woods that spanned around it. The wall spread to either side, spanning far beyond his range of sight. He found himself asking how long this wall had been here, and who built it.

Saria tugged on his arm again, guiding him to the right, where an opening, large enough for the two children side-by-side, lay just out of sight. Saria turned again to double check before entering through the gateway.

In an instant, night turned to day and the noise of the forest was rekindled anew. However, the scenery only served to make Tristan nervous; his thoughts reflected back to the skeleton, and the grave injury he was all but happy to remember. This place felt so much more peaceful than the surrounding woods, or even the village, yet he couldn't suppress the feelings of anxiety that bubbled up from within him. He felt so vulnerable, trapped between towering cliffs on either end. If they were attacked now, there was nothing they could do.

Now Tristan took the initiative, pulling Saria through the natural hallway with a fearful vitality. Saria was surprised, for each passing moment seemed to instill a new sense of wonder into the boy, like someone who had eaten honey for the first time. Now, she felt his urgency flow from his trembling hand, his head turning from side to side with a sharp, observing nods. Something about this place frightened him but she hardly saw anything larger that the occasional beetle. What was it that Tristan was so worried about?

Her thoughts were interrupted when her foot fell on a flowering bud.

The plant shot up like a bullet, catapulting the startled girl out of Tristan's grip and into the air. Tristan reacted quickly, grabbing a nearby stone and throwing it at the stem. The rock missed its target, but still distracted the bud from its falling victim. It snapped, closing the distance between them in an instant. Tristan put his hands out straight in a desperate attempt to block it.

And received a leafy kiss on the cheek.

Saria landed on her feet, slightly startled, but perfectly fine. She giggled, pursing her lips with her fingers when she saw the baffled look on Tristan's face. Deku Baba's certainly looked dangerous with their purple-green leaves, sharp teeth, and green spit but were relatively harmless. She always wanted to keep one as a pet but the Great Deku Tree strictly forbade it. A full size Deku Baba could easily swallow her whole, if she wasn't careful.

Tristan blushed slightly, embarrassed by such a comical farce. Frustrated, he stomped on, making as large of a scene as possible to vent his anger.

It turned out the pathway extended shortly after a nearby turn; becoming a vast grove, abundant, yet devoid of life. He could feel the bustling, almost holy energy radiating from all directions, like New York in full swing, yet there was no movement, no animals to speak off. Only an expansive field of rich grass and a venerable tree that sat in the grove's center.

He took several steps; each one greeted with a softness that rivaled the finest carpets and approached the tree. It was truly magnificent, and even at the groves edge, he had to look up to see the green leaves that puffed from its many thick branches. The bark across its face grew strangely, creating deep rifts for eyes, and a thick mustache beneath.

A thunderous tone echoed through the clearing: "I am glad to see thou are well. Thank you for attending to this child Saria."

If it weren't for the slight movement of the trees base, Tristan would've hardly believed his ears. The thing certainly looked alive, but it was impossible. Trees couldn't talk!

The tree's brows moved slightly, showing a sense of perplexity about Tristan's innate behavior: "Allow me to introduce mine self, I am the Great Deku Tree, guardian of the Lost Woods and protector of the Kokiri tribe. May I ask thee what thy name be?"

"I-I am Tristan," He said sheepishly, it felt so uncomfortable, talking to a tree, "N-nice to meet you."

The wooden eyebrows furled slightly in concentration as he studied the small child standing before him. A little while before, he felt a disturbance somewhere deep in the woods. He was especially sensitive to these incidences; they were few and far between, and normally occurred without incident, but the appearance of this boy had made him curious. Could it be this child is-?

"Are you the one who would answer my questions?" Tristan said, the initial shock gradually leaving his voice.

The face seemed to open slightly, as though broken from its thoughts: "Oh, yes, but may I ask a question of thee first?"

Tristan took the reply with prominent impatience. Whenever he heard "just one question", it usually meant five or ten.

"How is it that thou came into my woods?"

"It's a long story," Tristan said, attempting to avoid the subject.

The Great Deku Tree merely smiled in return: "I have time."

Tristan knew he couldn't avoid the topic and gave in. He told him of everything up to that point, still hardly believing the events as they rolled from his tongue. The narrative was scattered and rushed in places, but the Great Deku Tree had heard most of the story from Saria and managed to fill in the rest of the gaps.

"Deku Tree, if you know what's going on please tell me! Where am I? How'd I get here? What's going on?" The questions came in the same breath as the story, and the Great Deku Tree barely caught the request.

"Patience my child, all your questions will be answered in time."

"NO! I'm sick of being in the dark! I'm sick of being treated like a child! Now tell me what's going on, or I'm leaving!"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to hide anything from you." This child was different somehow; more mature than any he met before.

"Then tell me, what's going on?!"

"Child, if thou speaks the truth, then thou may well be from another world."

"Another world? What are you talking about?!"

"I speak of a world united and yet separated from Hyrule, only joining when time stands still."

"United and separated?" Tristan said, completely lost.

"Tell me, has thou know of time's relativity?"

"Relativity? What does that mean?" He racked his brain for the answer. He remembered Dom mentioning something about Quantum Mechanics or something like this. If only he paid attention then.

The Great Deku Tree continued with his explanation: "It means time is not constant as we perceive it. There are points where time speeds up and slows down. There have even been incidences where time will stop altogether. It is though that rare occurrence that thou has stumbled into our world."

"Wait, time changing?" Tristan was getting irritated. It felt like he was listening to a college lecture, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Think of time as a river. Mostly, the river follows a constant motion, flowing eternally in a single direction. However, there are places where the water shifts, and the flow changes."

"So, even if this actually does happen, how did it send me here?"

"Time stops in our world, just as it would in thy world. Sometimes when this occurs, the frozen points will connect for an instant, allowing something small to pass through. It is through this opening that you fell into our world."

"So you're saying that our worlds are connected like this and I just fell through some space thingy?"

"Strangely put, but yes."

"Okay then," Tristan said, trying to take this all in. Time relativity, different worlds; it was giving him a headache just thinking about it.

Tristan collected himself, but now that he could ask questions, he didn't know where to begin: "Deku Tree, how do I go back? How can I get back to Earth?"

The Great Deku Tree's face shifted to one of pity: "I don't know."

The news came as a shock to Tristan. "Com'n, you're kidding right? Can't we just find another tunnel I can go back through?"

"If only it were that easy," The Great Deku Tree said, his words creating a melancholy atmosphere. "Our worlds connect only one or two times a decade and even then, for only an instant. I'm sorry Tristan, but there is little I can do for thee."

He ran up to the tree, his eyes welling with tears: "Please tell me you kidding! I'll never see my mother or my sister ever again?!"

"I am truly sorry."

"No, you're lying! There has to be a way." Tristan pounded the tree furiously, his face red and wet with tears.

The Great Deku Tree could only watch as the boy broke down before him. In an instant, his entire world had been taken from him and he knew his times would only get worse before they got better. This boy had been through so much; yet he couldn't even embrace him and tell him everything was going to be all right.

Tristan turned and sprinted out of the grove, unable to bear such truth. He kept running, past the Deku Baba and out of the tunnel. He ran through the village as the light peaked about the trees, passing a few groggy Kokiri who barely caught a glimpse of him through their windows. He ran, even to the bridge that led out of the woods before he finally collapsed falling to his knees, his hands cupping his face

Surviving in those woods, battling with the Stalfos, and coming mere inches from death. The only thing that drove him on was the thought of his family. All he wanted to do was look back and think it was only a nightmare. So why? Why did fate destroy his hopes like this? Why was he here?! What was he supposed to do?!!

"Tristan?" A faint voice from the bridge's edge.

"Go away, leave me alone!" Tristan barked bitterly.

Saria stood there, trapped in the tremendous tension that encompassed her. For what felt like hours, Saria took another step closer, receiving another fierce dismissal from the boy and creating even more tension between them. She was only halfway across the bridge and already the atmosphere was stifling, as if it had manifested into physical form. She knew any sudden movement; any rash step and Tristan would be gone to a place beyond her reach.

But Tristan's misery soon weakened and began to crumble. He turned around, his face red and puffy with tears. He leapt at Saria, driving her to the ground in a warm embrace, screaming regret for everything he had lost. Saria was stunned at first, but sat up and listened to the boy's woes attentively. She couldn't understand his language, but she could fell the tremendous heartbreak pour into her like water and soon enough, tears of pity formed in her eyes as well.

She returned the boys embrace, hoping to comfort such the pitiful thing with the only piece of his language she knew.

"Tristan…I'm…sorry."

"Saria…"

"I am truly sorry I can't return thee to thy world." The Great Deku Tree's voice resounded across the bridge, "All I can do is give thee a place to stay in the village. Thy presence here must be the will of the goddess's. I know at first it will be difficult but I will do everything in my power to protect thee as I would any of my other children."

"Great Deku Tree…"

"Will you accept mine offer and live amongst the Kokiri?"

Tristan was baffled. Such hospitality from something he just met. Could he accept it? He still didn't believe what the Great Deku Tree said. There had to be another way, he just had to find it. It may take months or even years, but he was dedicated to the task.

But there was Saria. He only met her for a day's time and already she felt like family to him. He knew if he left, she at least would cry. She at least, needed his protection.

The Great Deku Tree expected his answer to be hesitant, but his tone lacked such weakness: "Yes, thank you Great Deku Tree."

"Remember Tristan, if anything troubles you, Saria and I will be there to listen."

"I'll remember to keep that at heart." Saria took him by the hand and led him back to the village, prepared to start his life anew.

The Great Deku Tree was happy for Tristan but concerned. During their encounter, he delved partially into Tristan's mind, revealing the dark nightmares that had plagued him in his sleep. Already, darkness was settling in the forest and he knew it was only a matter of time before it completely overpowered him. All it needed was a catalyst, a great power to set it in motion.

Tristan, The Great Deku Tree wished this was the end of his road, but he knew this would only be the first step on a long and perilous journey.

* * *

**Authors Note: **Thanks for reading. I'm especially concerned about the dialogue with the Great Deku Tree. Did it sound real? If it didn't, please give me some suggestions. Also, any specifics on spelling and grammar are greatly appreciated and fixed ASAP. 

I think we might get to the Great Deku Tree's dungeon in a few more chapters. I'll try to get there soon, but the next chapter is expected to be a lot longer than the previous ones so it might take me a while to finish.

Again, any praise or critisism is greatly appreciated so don't hesitate to leave a review.


	9. Kokiri Life

**Authors Note:** Have you ever had one of those times when you're not satisfied with anything you write? Well, that's what happened with this chapter. I'm sorry I didn't get this up earlier and I hope the chapters to come will come to me faster than this one. I'll try to get this within a week, but my finals are coming up so expect two at most.

Anyway, here's some replies I got from reviews on my last chapter

The-Saiyan-From-Hyrule: Thanks for pointing that error out. Rest assured I fixed it as soon as I got the message.

RyuHagakure: I'm interested in the next chapter, but its been weeks now. When are you going to put it up?

B-average girl-Thanks for your support. I hope you can give me some specifics in the later chapters.

Anyway, onto the chapter. I hope you enjoy.

The Passage of Time

Chapter: Kokiri Life

In the beginning, when Hyrule was nothing more than lifeless stone, there were three Goddesses: Din, the goddess of power, Naryu, the goddess of wisdom, and Farore, the goddess of courage. Together, the three descended upon the chaotic cloud of rock and bestowed upon it, their blessings. Din used her mighty arms to mold the planet and create the red earth. Nayru poured her wisdom upon the land and gave it the spirit of law. And Farore, with her rich soul, gave birth to all those that would uphold the law. In this way, power, wisdom, and courage united and the land of Hyrule was given life.

But the Goddesses were not yet finished.

Their gaze fell upon a small child, lost in one of the worlds dark corners; an evil place that would come to be known as the Lost Woods. The Goddesses' took pity upon the child, removing the newborn from the darkness and cradling her in their arms. In an act of apology, the three each bestowed a new blessing on the child. Din pressed her finger deep into the dark wood, creating a deep valley where the child would live safely. Nayru bestowed upon the child a fairy companion so she would never be alone. And Farore planted a seed that became a mighty tree. Both Din and Nayru imparted the tree with the strength and wisdom to protect the child from harm.

With their task completed, the goddesses' ascended to the heavens. Farore however, turned and bestowed upon the child her greatest blessing, the gift of eternal youth. Now she was content that even if the light of the world may fade, the child would forevermore retain her innocence. With a final farewell, she too vanished into the heavens and followed her sisters back to the Sacred Realm of legend.

So is the tale of the world's creation, and the Kokiri's birth

The Kokiri are a mysterious race, known mostly to the outer world through vague myths and legends. They lived in prosperity, isolated from the chaos of the world. If anyone was lucky enough to even catch a glimpse of the children, it was only once in a lifetime.

There have been outsiders who have miraculously stumbled upon the hidden village. To the two or three people in history who accomplished such a feat, lived to tell of its glorious wonders; a beauty that surpassed even the great lakes of Hyilia, or even the ancient temples of old. Such a place could only be described as paradise to the rest of the outside world.

And the Kokiri made certain Tristan was as far away from its splendor as possible.

"Why can't Tristan live here?!" Saria said.

An orange haired girl stood in a vacant lot next to her house. She was slightly shorter than Saria, dressed in a similar tunic dyed a forest green, coupled with rather stylish high boots. The girl was obviously irritated, they had been at this for almost a half-hour and Saria refused to back down an inch. What did she see in that thing anyway?

"I'm not having that filthy thing living next door!"

"He's not a thing; he's a Kokiri, just like the rest of us!"

"Is that so?" she replied slyly, "Then why don't you have him say that himself?"

It felt like a soft punch against her chest. Even with Tristan's origins, she never expected the girl to throw such a decisive blow. Lost of words, she could only guide Tristan away in search of another lot.

"And don't come back!"

She had to be the tenth person this morning, and most certainly not the last. There were plenty of places for Tristan to live, but no one wanted anything to do with the round ear. She expected to meet trouble like this all along, but she never expected the Kokiri to be so hostile.

She found her desperation turning towards Link of guidance. She knew Link would take him in, but she only wanted to try it as a final resort. Most of the Kokiri looked down on him already, and having a round ear in his house would only worsen his reputation.

Even Tristan's untrained ears could hear the hateful undertones in the children's voices. He couldn't understand the dialect Saria shared with them, but the responses were crude, coupled with hurtful gestures and tones that Tristan had never heard from children. Saria past lot after lot that could easily support a house, but she led him away from each of them, mocking laughter and words at there tails.

Eventually though, they found a place for him to stay, a place where none of the Kokiri would complain. It had a wonderful view of the village and even faced toward the western horizon. It was a little treacherous getting to the top, but watching the sun set beneath the trees was something Saria did often, especially after butting heads with Mido.

But just behind the ledge was the entrance to the Lost Woods. She and Tristan had witnessed first hand the monsters that roamed its grounds and the strange magic that saturated its grounds. A pang of worry echoed in her heart, what if a creature came through that tunnel one day? The cliff was tall, so the village was hardly in danger, but anyone atop the cliff would be cursed to certain doom. The thought of a Wolfos dragging Tristan away was something difficult for Saria to suppress. The Great Deku Tree said it would never happen, but such counseling did little to quell her fears.

Her thoughts spun back to Link's sanctuary. She didn't want him to be further isolated nor did she want to subject Tristan to the denizens of the wood. She found herself torn between the two evils, wondering which one was the better choice. If only she could ask Tristan what he wanted.

But words were hardly needed to express his desires.

Tristan was staring into the horizon, standing mere inches from the edge with a look of childish wonder on his face. He'd never seen such wild scenery in his life; it was simply breathtaking. Saria could not help but worry for Tristan's safety, but such feelings of bliss were overwhelming and she knew she couldn't change his mind.

She opened her palm, revealing a seed about the size of a grape. A flickering orange glow radiated from the small crack in its woodland shell, glowing faintly like a fire poker. She planted the small seed a safe distance away from the cliff, withdrawing another trinket from a leather sack in her hand. A small glass bottle filled with fairy dust.

She unstopped the cork sealing the magical brew, making sure not to spill any of its contents unnecessarily. She moved deliberately, sprinkling the crystalline powder in smooth, intricate lines across the grassy terrain, leaving a small luminous rainbow glitter in its wake. Tristan watched the lines cross with increasing complexity as Saria danced around the miniature seed. Saria finished the ritualistic preparation with a perfect circle, with the seed perfectly at its center.

Saria stepped back to a safe distance before sprinkling the remaining powder to form a much smaller circle, interconnected with the larger glyph by a fine line of dust. Saria took her position within the smaller arc, and knelled with her hands clasped as she prayed intently to the goddesses. Tristan could only discern the names Din, Nayru, and Farore as Saria spoke a series of rehearsed words that intermingled between the realms of prayer and chant.

The complex hymn spanned several mesmerizing minutes as the lines of dust glowed ever more vigorously. Saria remained fixated, lost in a trance as the words continued to flow effortlessly from her lose lips. The speed and volume continued increase in intensity, reaching a dramatic climax of sound and light and Tristan had difficulty adjusting to the blazing display before him. Then, the chant ended in an instant, snuffing out the lights it so carefully constructed. Tristan stood on edge, trapped in the calm tension that permeated the field, knowing the finale that was soon to come.

Saria's voice came strongly, her final words echoing across the entire village: "O ubela aZy! Eneo ukel!"

The fairy dust flashed to life, multiplying its intensity ten fold and blinding Tristan in the time it took to close his eyes. He turned away, unable to even lift his eyelids to a light that could turn night into day. Then, like a flare, the light faded as quickly as it appeared and the fairy dust blew into the wind, its magic completely drained.

Tristan slowly approached the massive creation, feeling the coarse surface his eyes could barely perceive. Just a moment ago, this thing was a seed smaller than Saria's palm. Now, it was a solid oak, spanning thirty feet in height and at least ten feet in length. It was the spitting image of a tree that took centuries to mature and the only thing that made it seem like home was the regular grooves on one side.

Tristan eagerly climbed the makeshift ladder, curious and excited to see his new home. The balcony itself, hidden from peering eyes by a thick screen of leaves, seemed to grow from the very tree itself, its rough bark branches lacing together in an orderly yet chaotic weave that created a work impossible for even the greatest of craftsmen.

He made his way to the door, a circular opening similar to Saria's house yet it had a hinged door that fit flawlessly into its framework. Its exterior matched perfectly with the tree surrounding it, only discernable by a small window adorned with cross beams that decorated its center. It felt more like an outdoor cottage than a giant tree and his chest burned with anticipation as he reached for the doorknob.

The inside itself consisted of only a single room with sparse furnishings. A bed across from the door, a dresser melded into the wall, a small fireplace with a chimney lined with compressed pebbles, and a cupboard just above the mantle. The floor was the only surface that remained free of bark. Instead, the floor was composed of polished beams that seemed commonplace in almost every home. It felt like he was coming back from a hard days work as he strolled to the open window across the room

He found his mind wander as he watched the sun dip below the horizon. How many days had it been since he came to this world? It must've only been two or three days, such a short time and yet, it felt like he had been here all his life. Such nostalgia he felt, staring into the sunset, whose vibrant display of dark reds and purples reminded him of the view from his window back home.

Saria came through the door, her balance shaky from exhaustion. Such a spell normally took at least two or three Kokiri to perform successfully. Normally, she'd never attempt such a feat on her own, but she knew how little help she'd receive for helping a round ear. She gently laid the leather sack on the floor, opening its contents before leaving the way she came. She wanted to stay a little longer, but she barely had the energy to even walk across the room. Moving as quietly as her aching body could, she glided back down the tree to return home.

Tristan turned around, alerted by the faint grind of bark on bark. He saw the sack lying inside the doorframe. Tristan rummaged through the sack and found a few provisions, a blanket, a pillow, a broom, dining ware, a change in clothes and several other necessities. Tristan carefully took the pile of items and organized them neatly in their rightful place.

By the time he was finished, the moon had risen halfway over the horizon. Tristan crawled into his bed and slept comfortably for the fist time since coming to this world.

The following weeks were indeed difficult for Tristan, not just from necessity but culture as well. The Kokiri were a very subsistent group of children, mostly collecting enough supplies to get by. There society lacked any form of currency or even an economic system. Any trading that the Kokiri did was through the occasional bartering of goods.

The Kokiri were largely a gathering tribe, picking fruits and berries for the assortment of trees and bushes that grew along the outskirts of the village. Saria took Tristan to the gardens several times, instructing him on how to discern the ripest fruits and the best times to beat the competition. Tristan wondered how the Kokiri could live off such fruits and how such a food source was never exhausted.

The Kokiri were primarily gatherers, but they did occasionally eat the occasional scrap of meat. Mostly, they came across the food by chance, a fish flopped out of water, a creature from the Lost Woods that was subjugated to the Great Deku Tree's punishments, or even a docile cow or sheep that wandered into the village once in a blue moon. However, such chances appeared maybe once every one or two months, so meat was scarce, almost nonexistent in the Kokiri diet.

Learning the language of the Kokiri proved to be one of the most difficult parts of integrating into the society. Due to his round ears, Tristan found it difficult to meet with the Great Deku Tree, so Saria went in his stead. Every morning, the Great Deku Tree instructed her in the English language, and at night, she would come to Tristan's house and reiterate the lesson, translating the English into her language Tristan came to know as "Hyilian".

Saria learned Tristan's tongue at a remarkable pace and could produce fluent conversations during there lessons after only a few weeks, if but with a thick accent. It felt so exciting to Saria, like she was making up a secret language only the two of them could understand.

Them and another curious Kokiri named Link.

It was a cold day at the peak of winter when the boy came over to Tristan's house with the strangest look of coy curiosity on his face, like he was intruding upon something immoral. He shifted his head from side to side, his blue eyes darting bashfully around the room.

Saria and Tristan were slightly startled and embarrassed when Link spoke up to make his presence known.

"Link," Saria sputtered, sliding uncomfortably in her chair, "how long have you been there?"

"Not too long," Link replied sheepishly, "did I disturb you?"

"No, not at all. Here, have a seat."

Link gratefully accepted the offer. Tristan thought accepting a woman's seat was rude, but let the thought pass without incident.

"Tristan, this is Link, a good friend of mine."

Tristan extended a hand to greet the timid child: "My name is Tristan, it's nice to meet you."

Link sat perplexed for a moment, confused by foreign gesture. The awkward silence spanned several moments before Tristan withdrew the hand: "Let me get another chair. Do you want anything while I'm up?"

Link merely shook his head before Tristan darted outside.

"So what brings you hear so late?" Saria said, pulling up the vacant chair.

Link stared into the table, twirled his thumbs fretfully in an attempt to subside the nervous lump in his throat.

"Is something wrong?" Saria asked, taking notice of Link's unusual irritability.

"Well it just that," Link said, trying to convey his problem, it felt like a cold vice was gripping his tongue.

Still, Saria wit was sharp and she didn't overlook even the slightest gesture. From time to time, Link's eyes shifted nervously to the door, his body tensing slightly in anticipation of an inevitable encounter.

Saria's smile somewhat drooped; "Is the round ear bothering you?"

"No!" Link said defensively, his posture suddenly erect. Saria had expected the comment to hit a nerve, but it still did little to dampen her disappointment.

"Don't worry about it, Tristan's a nice guy and all, but you'll always be my best friend Link."

"It's not like that," Link continued, "Its just that, that." Again the thought diverged as a thumping of his leg.

"Then what's wrong?" Saria asked irritably, Link was usually more robust than this.

"Well, that language Tristan speaks," an awkward pause came as Link struggled to build up the courage he needed, "It sound's so, so, Cool!"

"What?" Saria said dumbfounded.

"I've been listening across the way for a while now and you guys sound so awesome talking to each other in that, what do you call it?"

"English," Saria replied timidly.

"Yeah, that! It just sounds so cool!" Link's voice seemed to rise with his enthusiasm as he slowly inched across the table, "Do you think I could stay and learn it too? I promise I won't bother you at all! So can I stay?! Pleeeease?!"

"Uh, sure."

"Yeah! This is awesome!"

"What is?"

Both of the Kokiri nearly fell out of there seats. They were so enthralled in the tense atmosphere; they had failed to notice Tristan enter the room.

"Um, is it alright if Link comes to our lessons?"

Tristan slid the third chair into place but remained standing: "Sure I don't mind."

Link face simply lit up: "Oh thankyouthankyou thank you!! I promise you won't regret it!"

"Sure, just take a seat, and I'll get us something to eat. Anything you guys want in particular?"

"Do you have any of that 'grilled fish'?" Link asked, licking spit off his drooling lips.

"Sure."

"And I would love some tea if you could," Saria asked timidly.

"Of course," Tristan replied.

And even though the night started with studious intent, the three children soon found themselves lost in the merry art of storytelling. Link and Saria told of the fairy festival, the annual event when new fairies were given life and perhaps a new Kokiri. They told of the one time they followed a skull kid into the woods to retrieve one of the festival masks. There was even one where Link and Mido fought off a Wolfos together.

But even the two of them together couldn't compare to the wonder Tristan's tales derived. The excited boy spoke of televisions and cars, houses, schools, and anything else that came to mind. Tristan's stories were endless and only the occasional question broke the two Kokiri's unwavering attention.

The moon had crossed its highest peak before the event finally ceased. The hardy flame in Tristan's hearth had dampened to a collection of warm embers, but Saria and Link didn't notice as they slept peacefully on the hardwood floor. Tristan felt his eyelids droop as well as a wide yawn escaped from his lips. He was tired, but happy to have spent such a festive night with friends. If only every night could be as exciting as this one.

But Tristan had come to understand that the festive night was only a flash in the pan and not everyone was as accepting as Link and Saria.

At first, it was subtle: A discontented stare from behind, a contented whisper that came to him as a mumble, or a steep decrease in traded goods. Tristan learned to ignore the early symptoms, but such hatred only grew bolder and stronger with time.

The children would paint his tree base with mocking pictures, often of Mido making mocking faces. Tristan cleaned the tree almost constantly, but soon found the event to be an almost daily routine. Eventually he gave up even trying maintaining the décor, submitting the tree base to become a collage of hateful pictures.

The Kokiri would openly humiliate him on the street in almost every way there childish imaginations could conjure. They stole his boots and hide them around the village and whenever he found them, they were usually filled with tree sap that took hours to completely scrape out. They slid wooden blocks into the grooves of his stepladder to keep him from climbing down. They even pounded the boy with rotten fruits from time to time.

Tristan withstood the insults, the pranks, and even the poundings, but nothing prepared him for the day his house had been looted.

He was simply devastated the day his house was in shambles. All of the food had been either stolen from his pantry, or smeared across his walls. The cooking tools he collected had been scattered across the floor, many of them severely dented. At least two of his handcrafted chairs had been smashed and splintered. Everything else that hadn't been bolted down was either stolen or thrown out the window to suffer a shattering fifty-foot fall. Even the secret storage below had been plundered for all its worth.

Mido snickered maliciously into his partially silvered mirror, picking a piece of grilled fish between his teeth. That round ear was probably crying in his room right about now, looking at the terrible mess that was once his house. Still, he certainly had a lot more stuff to steal than he first expected. There was even a hidden cellar he was using as a storage room. Stupid round ear, how in Hyrule was he so successful?

But his thoughts were rudely interrupted when an enraged Tristan hoisted him up by the scruff of his neck. Mido's smug expression was quickly replaced by overwhelming fear as the boy lifted him off the ground, kicking the chair from under his feet.

"Where's my stuff?" Tristan said angrily, a killing intent clear in his tone.

"Stuff? What stuff?" Mido stammered. The boy attempted to turn his head, but Tristan's grip was that of a vice and even the slightest movement was denied.

Tristan was hardly in the mood for delay. He slammed the Kokiri boy into the opposing wall with a resounding thud: "Answer me Mido, where's, my, stuff?!"

Tristan dropped Mido on the floor, determined to stare him eye to eye but the Kokiri had recovered from the initial shock, and his expression brimmed with a sly confidence.

"I don't know what happened to your stuff," Mido replied confidently, almost threateningly, "Maybe you should take better care of it."

Tristan's fist connected with the wall just to the right of Mido's temple. His remaining hand was clenched tightly at his side, ready to feel the boy's nose crunch beneath his knuckles, but he held as a slight grim bloomed on the Kokiri's cocky face. The boy's expression was almost, provoking.

Mido's confidence, while misplaced was certainly intimidating. Just one hit, and then maybe the Great Deku Tree would finally see him for the animal he was.

But the hit never came. Tristan understood full well the motive behind the grin and turned away, surrendering the battle before it even began.

"What's the matter round ear?" Mido scowled, "Cocco?!"

Tristan stopped for only a moment before marching through the door, slamming it on his way out.

"And don't come back!" came the muffled shout through the door. Tristan took little interest in the final rebuttal and retuned to his house, if only to salvage what little he could.

And from that day forward, no one saw high nor low of the round ear.

Months went by without the round ear, and Kokiri invented hundreds of stories to explain his sudden absence. Maybe it ran back to the Lost Woods where it came from, or maybe one of the wolves finally killed the thing in its sleep or maybe it was still up there, plotting something infamous to destroy them all. Everyone had there own story to tell of the infamous round ear, though none of them could find the courage to confirm their tales. It became almost a sport to sit around the fairy light, attempting to tell the craziest, most gruesome things the round ear could possibly commit.

And yet, each of there stories had a slight degree of truth.

It was another beautiful twilight deep in the Lost Woods, skimming its many lakes with wondrous nocturnal hues of crimson and violet. Most of the diurnal creatures scurried across the vast landscape, retreating to their safe dwellings before the creatures of the night descended upon the wood. And yet, Tristan remained poised on his tree stump, keenly focused on a fish that dangled temptingly close to his lure.

His heart pounded with anticipation. Just one nibble, just one nip of the baited worm, and it was his. The palms of his hands were sweating, his vision focused to a pinpoint. But his excited hands jerked the line, and the fish caught wind of the trap. Before Tristan could do anything to stop it, the fish was lost to the lake's murky depths.

Tristan kicked the tree stump in frustration, causing the rotten wood to crumble into a pile of dirt. This was the third day he would go without a decent meal and already the effects were taking their toll.

His hopes crushed, he finally noticed the fading sky as the sun dipped below the horizon and knew his shelter was already beyond reach. Tristan withdrew his knife before looking at the many nicks his tunic and the scratches that had long since accompanied them. Such wounds were old and had long since healed, but Tristan knew that fresh blood would be drawn before the night had finished its deadly cycle.

He began searching for any dead wood or tinder he could find to make a fire. He kept a flint stone tucked away in one of the notches of his belt so starting a fire wouldn't prove too difficult. However, life was plentiful, almost eternal amongst the ancient trees, and to find even a dead branch was the will of the goddesses. If only he had a fairy to keep him company.

But fairies only came to the children of the forest, the Kokiri, and he was merely a round ear, a dog dressed in human clothes.

And yet, such thoughts always brought Link to mind. Of all the Kokiri, Link was the only one who had yet to gain the companionship of a fairy. The other Kokiri often laughed at him, calling him a "half person", a Kokiri rejected by the forest. Certainly, being a half person like Link was much better than his standing, but Link had never given up like he had so many months ago. Link demonstrated a self-confidence that defied all logic in his upbringing and displayed a courage that made him seem childish in comparison.

Maybe, maybe he had given up too early on the Kokiri. They didn't accept him, but if he continued as he did now, the Kokiri's opinion of him would never change. Even if it didn't change, he still had Saria and Link as friends and that was all he really needed.

And for the first time in many months of wandering, Tristan dreamed of returning to the Kokiri village.

And a willing tree answered his plea. A branch, not even the size of his arms snapped and fell from the canopy, completely dead and bone dry.

A tear came to Tristan's eye. In the many months that Tristan had lived here, he had learned to treat the forest like a separate entity, a creature with a will of its own whose mood could easily mean the difference between life and death. It was a rare moment when it felt such compassion and even rarer still toward a round ear.

Tristan didn't hesitate for a moment, withdrawing his tinder and flint and assembling the makeshift torch for lighting. Both the wood and the tinder were especially dry and it only took two or three scrapes of his knife to set fire to it. Tristan no longer cared about reaching his shelter anymore. Tonight, he would find his way back to the village.

But then, a Skull Kid rushed by, snatching the torch from his hand and rushing into the night.

Tristan was shocked but knew there was no time to hesitate. He bounded after the speedy demon, following the ever-glowing beacon that jostled in its hand. It twisted and turned corners with remarkable speed and there were points when Tristan thought it impossible to catch up.

And still, the torch remained just in sight and out of reach. Why didn't it escape? He had encountered a few of these children as well and knew of there cleaver disappearances. He knew if this thing really wanted to escape, it could do so easily without the need for a chase so why not do so?

Tristan's breathing was becoming labored and his legs began to ache. He had gotten much stronger in these woods, but his endurance was reaching his limit and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer.

But then the Skull Kid stopped, throwing the torch aside and disappearing into the night.

Tristan fell to his knees for support, gripping his heaving chest while taking deep, quick breaths. By now, the torch had already withered to a smoldering ember with maybe a half inch of wood still attached. Even then, the flickering light revealed the Skull Kid's intent, a one in a million scenario Tristan knew would not be repeated for another hundred years.

Just in site of the fading flame, was a leather boot in a hollow log. Link was standing just before the entrance of the village.

Tristan was lost for words, hardly believing the forest had shown its generosity twice to him. Exhaustion left the round ear and he fell into Link's embrace.

It was good to be home.

Link and Saria came to clean Tristan's house often, and even after several months of disuse, his house was even cleaner then when he had left. Even all the stuff Mido had stolen that night had been restored to its rightful place save for his food of course. Link and Saria even added a large thorn bush near the base to deter anymore playful, painting hands from his tree. As Link left to go back to his own house, Tristan slept peacefully, knowing his house was safer than it had ever been.

For three years, Tristan built up his trust with the Kokiri. The changes were subtle and slow to take effect, but they were defiantly there. The Kokiri stopped escalating prices, ended there ceaseless pranks, and even allowed him to attend the many festivals and events throughout the year. Tristan knew he couldn't reach a point where he would be fully accepted, but the most of the Kokiri at least tolerated him as the many months rolled by.

Tristan not only survived, but even flourished in the months that passed. He found that the fish he made before was even more successful than when he first left and it was difficult to meet the demand the Kokiri had for the tasty treats. Tristan usually received fruit or other food in payment, but he was always willing to trade for any metal trinkets the Kokiri ever found. Tristan soon found that even the two rooms he had before were insufficient for his trade and the house responded by adding a second basement to the structure.

Every morning, he would return to his training routine, slowly rebuilding the strength that had been so quickly stolen from him. In his small body, he lacked the testosterone to fully restore his lost strength, but he still had the energy to maintain a cheerful vigor, even on the most demanding of days.

The energetic boy trained in the sparring grounds whenever he found a moment to spare. Link often joined him, and while his skills were lackluster at first, he quickly adapted to Tristan's style, initiating fights that even made Mido stare in awe. Sometimes the two children would fight for hours until one of them collapsed from exhaustion.

Before, he cursed the goddess's for his problems. Now, he looked back on the last three years of his life as some of the happiest he had.

But the wheel of destiny was beginning to turn, and something dark lurked just out of sight, waiting only for its master's command to strike. A single eye squinted as it snickered at the Kokiri's blissful ignorance.

A faint, monstrous chuckle escaped the beast while its eye squinted with anticipation. For before the next days light, the Great Deku Tree's life would come to an end.

**Authors Note: **Thanks for reading. I especially want to know what you thought of the creation story. Did it seem cliche or short? I'm glad to hear about any problems and suggestion you may have.


	10. Child's Play

**Authors Note:** Sorry for the wait, I seem to be even busier out of school than in school. Nonetheless, a large part of it is laziness to sit and write this so sorry for that. I know my word hasn't been very reliable, but I'll try to get the next chapter up in the week.

I'd like to thank zilzil3, thebladeofchaos, RyuHagakure, The-Saiyan-From-Hyrule, and RichOverlordSam for your praise, I hope I can continue to impress you.

The Passage of Time

Chapter 9: Childs Play

A thunderous crack rang through the grounds with as wooden weapons collided once again. Link was forced back another step as another blow came crashing down so close to his leg, he felt the residual cut breeze across his skin. He used what little feeling left in his arm to maintain a grip on his weapon. He knew blocking another blow would be near impossible.

Link's quick thinking and honed reflexes were all that kept him in this fight as smash after smash fell harmlessly to the side. Even exhausted, Link managed to dodge all of Tristan's shots, but each blow came closer and closer to his body. Even now the wooden stick was brushing heavily against his skin and he knew he was being forced into a gamble. Would his body give out, or would Tristan expose an opening.

Then, Tristan came low, with a sweep towards his legs. Link took the chance, performing a cartwheel that would make any gymnast proud and allowed the slicing weapon to glide harmlessly past his planted hand. Link quickly followed with a beautiful stroke to Tristan's open side; leaving Tristan with little choice but to leap back and lose the initiative. Link flipped upright from his inverse position, and for a moment, the forest held its breath as the two caught their breath.

The several drops of sweat that had been dripping from Link's skin were forming a thin film across his arms and forehead. His breath was heavy and labored as he basked in the blazing heat of the summer day and his legs were wobbly from strain. His heart was pounding furiously to recover, and he felt a flickering feeling in the back of his head, as if his brain was flipping through conciousness.

Tristan however, stood erect and ready for the next attack with only a few drops of sweat spotting his brow, his breath as shallow and calm as when the fight had begun.

This was only one of the many fights he had with Tristan, but his friend's tremendous stamina continued to amaze him. Even after fighting Mido and all the Know-it-all-brothers, he still had the energy to strike with such speed and power. His sword arm was still numb from the barrage; he had to make a conscious effort just to keep a grip on his weapon. There was little chance he could beat Tristan now, even with a miracle.

Tristan hated to admit it, but the exhausted Kokiri was beginning to push him back. Unlike most of the village, Link was natural southpaw, which gave him an advantage against most opponents. Tristan was having difficulty adjusting to the adverse style of swordplay, especially after playing against four right-handed opponents in a row.

And Link was always stronger when his back was against the wall.

For a moment, the two boys stared each other down, waiting for the other to break the stalemate that hung between them like a thick fog. It seemed like the standoff would last forever, until a gust of wind, softer than even a baby's breath, churned the stagnant summer air. The two boys charged with an explosion of movement and within seconds were upon each other again

Link came screaming, striking Tristan's blocking stick with a resounding thud. Tristan pulled back slightly and Link continued, his weapon striking with increasing speed and precision, not even giving himself the time to breathe.

Tristan felt his feet slid further and further back as his guard began to succumb to the pressure. He never knew Link to be so aggressive. And just as he was beginning to adjust to Link's attack pattern, the boy shifted again, exploding into an unpredictable maelstrom of movement. Another forced stop, he was starting to panic, he couldn't find an opening.

Link's intensity somehow continued to increase and the advantage shifted in his favor. To everyone else, it would seem Link was dominating the second half, but Link knew he couldn't stop the assault. Already, his left arm had given out and his right was about to join it. He needed to create such pressure, just to keep Tristan on the defensive. If he let up for even a second, Tristan would regain the initiative and the match would be his.

Link's efforts paid off when Tristan found himself pinned against the opposing fence. Link took advantage of the moment's hesitation and aimed for Tristan's upper thigh.

But Tristan also wasn't one to crumble under pressure.

Before he could even conjure the thought, Tristan's weapon circled downward into Link's stab and in an explosive feat of strength, knocked the weapon out of Link's weakened grip.

Link fell to the ground and gripped his throbbing wrist. Such incredible power, he thought, he was even stronger than the last time they fought.

Tristan offered a hand, which Link reluctantly accepted: "Looks like I win again," Tristan boasted.

"Darn it Tristan," Link said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "I almost had you that time!"

"Yeah, you almost did," Tristan replied, placing extra emphasis on the "almost", "If I hadn't work on my lower guard, I would've been toast."

"I'll get you the next time," Link said pouting beneath his breath

"We'll just see about that first one to the river wins."

"You're on!" Link declared, but Tristan was already sprinting off into the distance.

"Hey no fair," came the shout from behind, "You got a head start."

"You snooze you lose," Tristan gawked, pulling his eyelid.

"When I get my hands on you." Link started angrily but the thought was rudely interrupted, when a pebble slammed into the back of his head. The Kokiri, stunned, toppled over, rolling through almost three summersaults before slamming into the nearby fence.

Riggoriously rubbing the back of his head, Link splashed out of the water, ready to see Mido with a pile of stones in his hands.

It was to his surprise to see a fairy instead.

"Ari, what was that for?!" Link sputtered.

"Yeah," Tristan asked, curious about the turn of events, "Aren't you supposed to be with Saria?"

"I came to get you guys; the Great Deku Tree's story has already started."

"Are you serious?!" Link exclaimed, "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"That should be obvious, half-person."

"I don't need to hear that from you, round ear."

"Nail biter."

"Health nut."

"Nose picker."

"Boot licker."

"Half-person."

"Round ear."

The two boys were practically touching each other, both of them making inaudible grunts. It looked like it would come to blows if Ari wasn't there to intervene.

"Guys, break it up. Are you going to hear the Great Deku Tree speak or not?"

"Oh right, I almost forgot!" Link stammered, "We'll settle this on the way."

"You go ahead Link," Tristan said somberly, "I've got some work to do anyway."

"Com'n you workaholic, it'll be fun."

"You know Mido's going to be there."

"Yeah, so what?" Link said, but he understood the reply as soon as it left his lips. The Great Deku Tree didn't mind them practicing in the training grounds, but brawling in the meadow was strictly forbidden.

"Don't worry about it Link," Tristan said, trying to comfort him, "You can tell me all about it tonight."

"Yeah, sure," Link replied unconvinced, "I'll see you later."

"Later then."

Link was soon darting nimbly between the evergreen trees as he bounded further towards the muffled voice. Already, his sharp hearing could discern the low mumble of the Great Deku Tree's words, telling of the creation of the world for nearly the hundereth-time. The valley wall was close and Link grabbed a bramble to slow his speedy decent, only to land atop of another Kokiri's head.

"Sorry, but the Great Deku Tree's story is ending so I've gotta hurry." The kid grumbled and huffed a little before Link was off again, leaping through the tunnel to the Great Deku Tree's grove.

A few Deku Babas emerged from the ground and attempted to trip him, a typical prank they liked to play, especially on latecomers. Link jumped over the roping vines, seeing the same trick a hundred times before, but the course, ropey surface of vine still intercepted his foot and Link barely braced himself for the impact.

He stood up again and brushed the dirt off his tunic before looking back at the Deku Babas. It seemed strange; they were a lot more… aggressive than usual. Or he was just tired from his sparring practice, either way; he didn't intend to miss another second of the Kokiri's story time.

But it seemed some of the kids had other plans.

"Whoa hold on there, you can't go past here," Mido said heroically, his three companions standing just behind.

"What are you doing here Mido," Link retorted, "I can go wherever I want.

"No way," came the obstinate chirping that accompanied Mido's every break. Despite being known as the know-it all brothers, they were surprisingly dull and stupid.

"I'm the boss of the Kokiri Tribe. A naive half-person like you can't listen to the Great Deku Tree's story."

"Naive."

"Especially one that hangs out with round ears."

"That's right."

"Where is that round ear anyway? Too scared to face me again?" Mido said, cocking his head boldly with a snicker. Link's hand tightened at his side and was ready to add a new ring to Mido's uninjured eye. Link however, noticed the irritable shake of the Kokiri's nervous legs, the slight dip in his feigned grin.

Link had to put a conscious effort into suppressing a grin.

"Maybe he just didn't feel like rubbing your face into the dirt again." Link said evenly.

"What you say?" Mido spurted through gritted teeth, his face shifting to a visible shade of red.

"I'm saying Tristan would have a better time fighting a stick. At least it might put up a better fight than you." Link knew goading Mido's sensitive feelings wouldn't end well, but he just couldn't help himself. Mido was so red now, he was certain steam would start pouring out of his ears. The comical thought forced him to suppress a few chuckled

Link knew Mido would explode if he kept this up, but the cocky child felt such excitement; the words just seemed to come before he even had time to think: "You could never beat Tristan, and you'll never beat me either."

Those final words struck Mido like the crack of a whip, causing his uncontrolled anger and jealousy to erupt violently, without even thinking, the red-faced Mido leapt through the air, toppling the surprised Link and driving him headfirst to the ground.

Mido thought he had the upper hand, but Link was hardy out, and learned a thing or two about grappling from Tristan.

Link hooked a leg behind Mido's kneeling knee just as the first punch came flying at his exposed face. Link dodged the blow and threw his open arm to press into Mido's planted elbow. Then, the Kokiri pressed all his weight against the arm, hooking the leg and pressing each side in opposing directions. Caught off guard, Mido could do little more than watch as the world spun.

Now Link was the one in control, ready to send the brutal barrage back into his back. Instead, he slid further back, wrapping himself around the foot still locked around his ankle and twisted. Mido could only grit his teeth and endure the pain, hoping one of his boys could get Link off him.

But none of the brothers took a single step, shocked by the sudden defeat of their boss.

Link's voice came faintly against the howling scream of his twisted leg: "And don't ever make fun of me or Tristan ever again!"

Mido would've said anything at that point, but luckily, he didn't have to.

Mido fairy came to his aid once again, ramming hard into Link's blind spot and sending in flying into the nearby lake.

"Hey, that's no fair!" Link shouted, slimy moss coating his soaking hair.

Mido gingerly got to his feet, letting yet another cocky grin slide across his face: "No it isn't, fairies are part of the Kokiri tribe, she's the same as me."

"Its still unfair," Link muttered to himself.

Only the booming voice of the Great Deku Tree stopped Link from resuming the fight, both physical and verbal: "What are you doing?" came the infuriated voice from the heavens.

All of them jumped at the powerful voice and Mido quickly turned tail with the rest of his companions, hoping to put as much distance between the infuriated tree and himself as possible.

"Fairy less," Mido shouted, running with his henchmen in tow. Link simply rubbed the sensitive bruise forming on his cheek.

Link soon found himself sitting on one of the Great Deku Tree's gnarled roots. He was hardly taken by surprise, such magic was easy for the venerable oak and he used it whenever he really wanted to see anyone. It was unfortunate such magic's would not work on one Tristan's origins.

Link let barely registered the event, letting Mido final insult continue to sting his thoughts. The words "Fairly less" and "Half-person" rang dully through his thumping head as they led to the same inevitable conclusion.

"Don't let Mido bother you Link," The Great Deku Tree said, as if reading his thoughts.

"Great Deku Tree, why am I so different from everyone else?" The same question had come to the Great Deku Tree's bough a thousand and one times and each time the Great Deku Tree gave the same answer.

This time was no different.

"When the time comes, you will know."

Link upheaval a deep sigh, hearing the depressing yet expected reply. He found his head fall heavily into his supporting hand, slumping weakly to the side in a clear expression of disappointment: "I know, I know." He breathed resigning.

"Hey Link," came the cheery voice from the surrounding wood. Saria came trotting from the entrance of the wood to greet Link with a wave, a secret gesture that Tristan used often for greeting.

Link's willow emotions evaporated like steam at the sight of the green haired Kokiri and Link bounded down the steep root to meet her.

"Great timing, there's something I wanted to show you."

"What?" Saria asked, generically excited.

Link reached under his hat and withdrew a piece of wood obviously carved into a y-shape. Between the sticks crossed gap lay an elastic strap connected to the top ends by a pair of red stoppers. The final leg was wrapped with a green cloth (standard for everything Kokiri) for easier grip.

"So what do you think?" Link asked, giddy with excitement.

"It looks neat, but what does it do?" Saria replied, her fingering the catching pouch on the other end.

"Well…" Link pondered, scratching his head. The thing looked neat, but he had never thought of a use for the mysterious contraption.

"With this, you can get fruit from trees you can't reach." Link took one of the Deku seeds spread across the ground and pulled back the elastic cord, catching the miniature projectile in the tightened pouch. He set his sights on a fair sized apple rocking slightly in the breeze. He aimed the shot and fired, hitting the stem and knocking the fruit from its unreachable perch.

"Awesome," Saria said, grabbing the fallen fruit, "Let me try."

Little did the two know that Mido had crawled back to the scene, peaking on then from a set of nearby bushes? A few inaudible grumbles escaped his lips but were luckily too quiet for the excited couple to hear.

Seeing Saria and Link so happy together made his confrontation with Link more that just an irritability. What did Saria see in that half-person anyway? He always seemed to get the attention of both the Great Deku Tree and his love from afar. He was supposed to be the leader of the Kokiri, and even so was treated like a useless figurehead whenever Link was around.

Mido quietly crept closer; finding some comfort in the weird device Link was showing off. Saria seemed even more beautiful as she took aim at another branch, her childish sense of competition indicting her to hit a tougher, more distant target. If he could take that away Mido thought then maybe Saria would be more impressed with him.

All his quiet stalking brought him was a violent crack against his head and an equally silent passing into sleep.

"Did I hit something?" Saria asked nervously, the shot was much lower than she wanted and the deep thunk made her cringe.

"Probably just a rock," Link said passively.

"Still Link, your really something coming up with something likes this." Saria said.

Link was focusing on retying the knot that came loose on Saria's attempt so he only half-heard the praise, "I guess I'm weird after all," Link replied, "I guess that's why no fairy will come to me."

"That's not true Link, even if you don't have a fairy, you're still my best friend, okay?"

Link could never resist that warm smile that Saria always wore. His doubtful depression could never stand against that tender concern and today was no exception. "Thanks Saria, I needed that."

"Com'n Link, its almost sunset, and you know how irritated Tristan gets when people are late."

"Yeah, I know," Link chuckled.

The sun was even more vibrant today than it usually was, its displays of dark color filling the sky. The wavering lights that came out shown amongst the sloshy background and created a surreal clash with the sky. It was truly something magical that retained its luster, even after the many years in the valley.

Tristan wondered if the sun was always like that, or if it seemed more enjoyable with his friends watching beside him.

For almost a half-hour the three stood there, watching the sunset. Saria had pulled out her ocarina and was playing a personal favorite for her audience of two. It was a catchy, playful tune that fit well with the forest that encompassed it, and Saria said that she only played this song for her dearest friends.

Link was standing close by, messing listening intently and dancing rhythmically to Saria's tune. Tristan felt like dancing himself and even felt his foot tapping the floor, but such a thing was to be enjoyed by the Kokiri and he would never be a Kokiri.

It was when the flame of din had become nothing more than a smoldering ember behind the trees when Link interrupted the songs tune.

"Hey guys, is it strange to have the same dream more than once?"

"Where did this come from?" Tristan asked.

"Well, I've don't want to bother the Great Deku Tree with something so trivial, but I remember him saying once that dreams were not to be overlooked. What do you guys think?"

"I don't know," Tristan said, "I never dream all that much."

"The Great Deku Tree says that dreams can be predictions by the gods, captured by those who are willing to listen."

"What happens in the dream anyway?" Tristan asked, hardly believing Saria's interpretation, but still interested in hearing a good tale.

"Well, in my dream, the sky is pitch black. I'm standing in front of a huge house with a peaked roof."

"A castle maybe?" Saria offered.

"I was thinking of a house myself," Tristan added.

"What's a castle?" Link asked bewildered, "is it something deep in the forest?"

"Its nothing like that," Tristan replied, "you could think about it like a giant building made of stone. A place where only royalty live."

"You mean like princesses and stuff," Link chimed.

Tristan continued; "Not just them, but Kings and Queens too, it is their job to make sure nothing bad happens to the people under their rule. Its kind of like how the Great Deku Tree looks over all of us."

"The Great Deku Tree once told us there are lands far beyond the Kokiri forest and even the Lost Woods. The world is very wide… and there are many different kinds of lands."

"The world?" Link echoed somberly, letting Saria's words sink in.

Already, the suns light had faded, giving way to the new moon. Tristan reached for a torch to light but resisted the urge, knowing that Ari could provide more light than anything he could conjure.

"What exactly is the wide world? What kinds of things are there that I don't know about?"

"If you really want to know, we could go see it together," Tristan said.

"Impossible," Saria retorted, "You know full well the Kokiri cannot leave the forest. Some have dared, but-"

"-None have returned," Tristan returned sarcastically, waving his arms limply like a ghost, "I was just joking is all."

"Was it really just a joke," Link chided.

"Link, you know full well that Saria is right. Its my fault for starting this up in the first place."

Tristan's words were apologetic, but it did nothing to cheer the boy up. For the first time in years, the confused child wondered if either world, the forest or the land beyond, would ever be considered his home.

"Tell you what Link, I go out their myself and bring back a bunch of souvenirs. You can brag to Mido and everyone else."

Link was silent, except for a few choking snivels.

"Don't worry Link, this is where you belong. I know I can't stay here forever. I'll just keep on growing, yet the Kokiri will stay young forever.

"Link, if I ever have to leave, I promise I'll come back to see you whenever I can. Okay?"

The Kokiri could not get the words to come so he settled on a limp nod instead.

"Thanks Link, now get some rest, you've been through a lot today."

"Sure," Link said, walking back home. Soon, the distressed Kokiri was gone, leaving only Tristan and Saria basking in the warm glow of Ari's aura.

"Your not seriously thinking of leaving, are you?" Saria asked.

"Not now, but maybe in a couple of years when I get a little older."

"You know… Link wouldn't be the only one who would miss you."

"I know Saria, I know. I'll make sure too whenever I get the chance."

"Thanks Tristan."

"I think I'll start heading home to, got to finish my routine before it gets too dark."

"Alright, good night Tristan."

"Good night Saria."

"Good night Saria". How those words stung her heart. She wanted so much to lay with him through the night, the two of them alone, enjoying the stars in the sky. She just wanted to experience that feeling again, that majestic calm with Tristan by her side and she by his. If only that feeling could last forever.

Today was no exception.

But Saria, the villagers, and even the Great Deku Tree had yet to notice the dark ominous clouds that began to eat away at their beautiful forest, had no idea of the calamity that was about to unfold.


	11. Catalyst

**Authors Note: **I think I got this up a little earlier than usual but still late. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.

Thank you 4th Triforce Piece, The-Sayan-From-Hyrule, and AmazingZeldafan09 for you reviews.

And thanks to my new beta-reader, RichOverlordSam, for critiquing this for me. Still, if you see any mistakes, please let me know ASAP.

Chapter 10: Catalyst

Finally the night had come!

Hours, the malevolent beast waited, forced to endure the scorching agony as the eye of din burned through its armored plate. It was lucky to find a large cave so deep in the woods to shield it from the day's cursed rays, much to the dismay of a pack of Wolfos

But now the night had come, and with its belly full, it was finally ready to fulfill its masters ambitions.

But those desires brought forth a new form of pain, one very different from that of the accursed sun. It felt distasteful and yet, pleasurable, like a coursing surge from a fresh wound. That sensation seemed to yank at its impulsive thoughts, realigning them to focus on a single objective. The command grew ever stronger and soon the arachnid's cautious pace had escalated into a complete sprint, all the while, a single command echoed in its head.

_Find the Spiritual Stone_

The objective sounded easy enough, grab a stone and bring it to its master, but the simple thing knew better of the situation. There were subtle undertones in her master's voice, contemplations that brought more detail into the task. He could see the spiritual stone clearly, an emerald sphere wrapped with golden vines, and he could see the Great Deku Tree, the one his master knew possessed the stone.

Now the malicious thing was only a couple meters away from his target, letting his mind wander to the grotesque ways of obtaining its prize. Maybe he could gouge out its eyes and watch them bleed, or cut off its limbs and let it cry out in agony, or even rip off its head and watch the body run frantically. Oh the many methods of the kill, many of which the unfortunate wolfos suffered that very afternoon.

A million and one things filled the eager arachnid's impulsive desires. It made little difference to the creature whether the thing was a wolf, a Hyilian or even a tree, as long as it would bleed like the rest of its victims. However, even its strongest urges surccumbed to that mind-numbing tug, that mighty ambition that overpowered even his most basic thoughts. The master wanted his prize and would tolerate no delays.

_Find the Spiritual Stone_

The arachnid hoped to finish this slowly and without interruption, but it seemed its overzealous impulses had revealed itself in full.

"Who are you?" Came the oaks only warning.

12…13…13... wait, did he say thirteen twice? He'd have to start the exercise all over again!

Tristan let his arm give out and drop him to the floor, the same as it always did for the past three months. He paced around the room, spinning his arm rhythmically to cool down and restore the beaten muscle, groaning at the thought of repeating the set again.

Like in many of his failed attempts, Tristan meandered along the worn, dusty floors of the oaken boards, eventually finding his way to an old map he hung on a wall frame. The parchment was cracked and yellowed around the edges, but the ink hadn't smudged and it remained mostly intact.

Ever since he got the treasure, he had looked over it every chance he got, devoting most of its contents to memory. He couldn't read the text, but he could tell the Lost Woods rested just below the mountain on the far right. Then, just to the left of the craggy mountains and northwest of Lost Woods, lay a castle, which Tristan could only assume was the capital of the province.

A castle, like in Link's dream perhaps?

Gently, he pulled the map from its resting place and rolled it delicately into a scroll before placing it on the table, along with a small knapsack. Everything seemed in place for a journey: provisions for about two weeks, two or three changes of clothes, including a pair of shorts, a sewing kit, even his modern outfit was still there, though he never expected to wear it, and finally his flint-knapped knife lay sheathed in a side pocket for easy access.

He knew he could protect himself well enough with the knife if he ever ran into any real danger, but there was something missing, something just in the back of his mind that irked him and delayed his journey.

His cell phone beeped in his pocket, which meant his rest was over. He went back against the wall and returned to completing his daily goal: fifteen one-handed, upside down shoulder presses.

"I will not allow one such as you to enter my domain!"

The Great Deku Tree now understood why the darkness -so tamed beneath his power- had gained such strength. A one-eyed scorpion now stood before him, cloaked in black armor coating all but the tip of its wicked stinger, its venomous prod dripping generous amounts of venom.

The arachnid paid no heed to the Tree's warning, slamming against the Great Deku Tree's side and sinking its claws into the oaks deep bark.

"Trees can't move. How sad." The thing cooed, and with one wrenching tear, the arachnid was inside.

It was only by luck that one of the fairies was watching

"Great Deku Tree, hang on!"

"Navi, is that you?" The Great Deku Tree asked, already his vision was fading, his omnipotent sight losing its luster.

"..." The voice came rusty and grinding, like a saw against the oaks venerable wood.

"What should I do?" Navi replied in a frenzied panic. She had never even imagined her creator could feel so weak.

"Quickly my child, find the one without a fairy. Bring him to me, quickly!"

"At once, Great Deku Tree." Came the swift reply and as fast as her little wings could carry her, the fairy darted into the woods.

"Hurry my child," came another rasping breath, "my time, is short."

A house with a peaked roof

This dream came often to the sensitive Kokiri. Each time the boy stood in the same place, looking at a peaked roof jutting just above a rock wall. The wall itself seemed uniform for the most part, except for a large wooden slab held together with black bars of iron.

The Kokiri took little interest in the redundant spectacle, witnessing the familiar scene nearly every night for the past two weeks, instead, his eyes were directed upward to the sky, where the sun refused to shine and the birds were afraid to fly.

Never before had Link seen clouds so dark, so ominous.

A crack of thunder made him jump and the rain poured heavily, soaking even the mighty rock and further darkening its grey hues, reducing the once peaceful land to a darkened silhouette of its former self. The grinding of metal followed soon after and the wooden slab lowered to the ground.

Soon came the thudding of hooves and before him galloped a white stallion, riding with all speed from the darkness with two passengers aboard. The one in front wore a elaborate dress decorated with the golden triad and garbed with the most vibrant colors, even with her large hat, the little girl was no taller than Link.

The one behind however was in no way a girl. Link had trouble calling it a she with her rippling muscles and callous hands spurring the horse's reins. Her long face seemed locked into a somber stare, facing only forward as she comforted the young child, even knowing her tripedation was just as consuming. It was all too fast for Link to take in as the two women faded into the gloomy dark. Link's strained to see them through the cloudy dark, when a second set of plodding hooves came to his sensitive ears.

He managed to turn around just in time to see the horse, a black stallion with red eyes and its owner, a tan man with a long angular nose whose forehead was adorned with a jeweled scarab. A mighty man in size and stature, his body was covered in black armor, detailed with ebony from the neck down.

A quiet mumble came to his ear, but his body went stiff as the desert man extended his hand, the energies of powerful magic summoning to his call. Link shielded his eyes both to protect his head from the inevitable blast and the shield himself from the attack's blinding light.

But the shot never even had the time to leave the man's hand when the distant mumble became a screeching roar.

"Wake up Link, WAKE UP!"

Link was up like a shot, squeezing his painfully ringing ears with the base of his palms.

"Hello, my name is Navi," She introduced quickly, "The Great Deku Tree has sent me to-"

"A fairy?" Link said half-hearing the declaration.

"A fairy…"

"A fairy," He said a third time, "A fairy! A fairy has finally come to me!!"

Navi had to fly across the room to keep the child from crushing her. She dove into a nearby pot for solace, but Link made no move for the startled fairy. Instead, the eager Kokiri made his way to the door.

"Alright, I'm gonna go boast to Mido." Link said eagerly, snapping Navi from her private contemplations.

"Link, there's no time for that." Navi protested.

But Navi's heart nearly skipped a beat when Link fell through a hole in the middle of his floor.

It was a long fall to the ground, but at least his landing was soft.

"What are you doing here Mido?" Link asked curiously, seeing him face down under his rump.

"Very important business," Mido grumbled, spitting bits of dirt out of his mouth.

Link hoped to continue his inquiry on what "important business" Mido had at his house, but something alien came into vision, a crisp, and brown patch of grass just between Mido's divided legs.

It wasn't just the grass. The leaves were flaking from the trees, whose life seemed to drain with the color of their bark

"The grass is withering, this has never happened before," Mido stammered, coming to the same conclusion.

"It's because something evil has entered the forest." Navi explained, "Hurry Link, there's not much time left."

**Authors Note:** We're finally on chapter 10, so to celebrate, I'll put a little short from here on.

Mido: "Phew, at lease he didn't see the Kokiri saw."

Link: "Kokiri saw?"

Mido: "What, I didn't say anything, I didn't"

Link: "Don't you mean the Kokiri Kokiri?"

--falls over--

Link: "What's wrong Mido?"

Mido: "It just, never mind."

If anyone can figure out what this wordplay means, tell me in a review, If your right, I'll send you a PM telling you what you've won.

Good Luck


	12. The Parasitic Arachnid

**Author's Note: **Thanks to 4th Triforce Piece, xX-Dea-Of-Letum-Xx, PuppetGanon Guy, AnonymoustheFirst, Suethe, and The-Sayian-from-Hyrule, for your reviews. Sorry I didn't get this out sooner, writer's block hit me on the last page.

The Passage of Time

Chapter 11: The Parasitic Arachnid

Link bounded through the bramble of trees with all haste. Already, the trees had lost their ambient warmth, their leaves covering the ground to make Link's every step land with a crispy crunch. Link was disgusted by the horrid sound, horrified that the trees could even create something so cold and dead.

There was no time to wait for Navi to return with Tristan, and Mido had run in the other direction. Link wondered if the panicked child would come back with a weapon, alarm the rest of the village, or just escape the evil curse while he could.

There were too many questions, and Link had no time to wait for answers.

The earthen archway came to sight, but only brought further dread to the hasty child. For beyond the crafted arch, the normally ever-luminous sky that was the grove had become as black as the night around it. Link hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the perversions that came one after the other. He shook off the wave of panic and pressed on.

There was no time.

Link pushed on through the makeshift tunnel, taking partial notice of the wilting vines in the stone walls. Only the soft pressing beneath his feet gave him partial solace. The grass beneath his feet did not crack like the dying flora before it and it was all he needed to keep his stomach from churning.

He had followed this path many times in the past and knew the Great Deku Tree's grove was just around the corner. But then a Deku Baba shot up, startling him and knocking him off balance.

The prank brought back Link's high spirits as he picked himself up: "You got me good that time," Link chuckled, padding the loose dirt from his tunic.

"But I don't have time for this," Link continued, directed to the plant just as much as to himself. It was only then did the Kokiri see what the surprise was truly about.

The Deku Baba whipped angrily through the air, opening its gaping mouth wide to reveal two sets of dull red teeth. The berserk plant roared angrily and Link stepped back, unknowingly dodging a gaping lunge at his left leg. Link's legs quivered, and then gave out beneath him.

"What's wrong with you?" Link nearly screamed, but a lump turned it to a whimper. The Deku Baba paid little heed to the child crumpled before it, the same child it itself had played with many a time in the past. All those thoughts were gone from the Deku Baba now.

Its mouth opened wide, revealing more strands of spittle stringing between the frenzied creature's lips before it lunged again, this time for Link's heaving chest. Link could not muster the strength to move his stiffened legs and could only lift his hands feebly above his head.

The Deku Baba's strike was fast and true, and the crazed thing would've had its kill then, had it not been for the bone knife through its stem.

The thing writhed painfully in the floor only a few inches from its intended target. It lunged further, letting the knife tear further through its stem to give it further leeway, but every time it got close, the panicked child crawled further away, disgusted and terrified. It jerked against its icy post with the last of its strength. It didn't make it and the Baba fell dead into Link's lap, its lathering tongue flopping lazily against the child's exposed thigh.

Tristan yanked the knife out of the haggard stem and cautiously moved to help Link to his feet. That is, after he pushed the leaking head off Link's leg.

"Man, that was close," Tristan, said, trying to lighten the mood.

Link was left speechless by the macabre scene at his feet, and the green ichor that dripped down Tristan's weapon. It felt like his entire world was turning upside down. It was all he could manage to keep on his feet, and keep his churning stomach under control.

Tristan fully expected the reaction, but understood Link didn't have much time to cope.

"Navi, I need you to fly ahead and analyze the area, I don't want any more close counters like this one." He pointed to the Deku Baba to emphasize his point.

"Where do you get off round ear," Navi replied irritably, "Your only here because Link asked me to get you!"

"I don't have time for you bickering!" Tristan barked at the fairy, "If anymore of these things catch us by surprise, the Great Deku Tree might be dead before we even get there."

Navi's prejudice against Tristan's kind was perhaps even worse than most of the Kokiri. Round ears stood against everything fairies were, from a guardian to a companion. Still, she couldn't argue with the things sound reasoning. She hesitated for a moment but darted above to scout.

Tristan grabbed Link's arm and pulled him gently closer: "Can you walk?"

Link managed a weak nod.

"Good. Now come on, we don't have time to waste!"

He looked back to the slain Deku Baba, its flowers and stem already wilting and swallowed a lump in his own throat. Already, the Deku Babas' had been driven mad, and he knew the rest of the forest would follow suit.

It wouldn't be long before the Stalfos were drawn by the mystical curse.

Saria paced nervously round her circular room, trying to sort out the calm impulses of anxiety that came to her. She didn't understand why she felt this way; there was nothing to worry about, especially with the Great Deku Tree's protection. No, this was different, something deeper than that, a prodding premonition of ill contents. Frustrated, the Kokiri made her way to the window, hoping the forest could take her mind off things.

She heard someone slamming her door downstairs and nearly jumped. She hastily slipped into a tunic and hurried to the lower floor. Whoever it was seemed panicked, they were still pounding the door even while she made her way across the room. When she finally did open the door, she was a little more than irritable to find out who was behind it.

"What do you want Mido?" Saria said bluntly, "Don't you know what time it is?"

Saria was defiantly impatient after being interrupted by her contemplations, especially by Mido at this hour. Normally, she would have slammed the door but Mido was panting heavily, using the door's framework to support himself while he caught his breath.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't slam the door now?" A little reprieve, even if the bullying child deserved none.

Mido's response was definitive, withdrawing a sword hidden behind his back and driving it into the ground. Saria turned to run, thinking Mido intended the strike at her feet. Expecting this, Mido released his grip on the weapon and stepped away.

Amongst the Kokiri's stature, the weapon would fancy as a short sword. The blade was tipped with silver and steel for strength and tempered for a high gloss finish. The hilt was of smooth oak, who's plain exterior was only disrupted by a gilded ruby the size of her eye embedded in its cross guard.

Saria stared wide-eyed as she fingered the pommel. She remembered the weapon well, through she had only seen it once before and knew full well the reason it had been unearthed from its seal. She looked back up to Mido with somber eyes and Mido knew she understood the severity of the situation.

"We have to hurry," Mido said, "There isn't much time."

Thanks to Navi's watchful eye, Tristan and Link managed to reach the Deku Tree's grove with only a few scratches, regrettably killing the two Deku Babas that remained. Tristan hoped to avoid killing the things, preferring to sneak around them and avoid the unnecessary combat. He knew though if Mido did come, the rest of the Kokiri would be right behind.

If any of the plants had remained alive, they could've been slaughtered.

It seemed so ironic to him how peaceful the grove still was, even with the curse sapping away the Great Deku Tree's strength. Not one leaf stirred on his luscious canopy. Not a blade of grass swayed in the stagnant air. It was as if the land had frozen in time, a memorial to a travesty.

Link's screeching screams cut through the silence like a knife. Tristan's ears were ringing from the stark difference in sound, yet brought him back to his senses. The knife was ready in his hand as he looked closely for any sign of movement. Everything about this place was almost too surreal, too quiet.

A slight brushing of leaves caught his attention, followed by a black stinger soon after.

"Link, look out!" Tristan yelled. Link indeed noticed the deadly point, its tip dripping with venom, but in that split second, he couldn't move his legs.

Tristan sprinted faster than he thought his legs could carry him but even then, he knew he wouldn't reach Link in time to dodge the attack. What a foolish thing to do, letting Link get so far away from him. In sheer desperation, he threw the knife, hoping the small projectile could at least do a little damage.

The knife spun through the air and missed the intended stinger, flying harmlessly low. However, the misplaced toss proved to be more beneficial as the stinger struck the knife in mid-flight, knocking it down into the trees base. The tail stopped immediately after the strike, and withdrew back into the canopy. Tristan sprinted the rest of the distance to catch up to Link. Luckily, the drop of venom that did hit Link had fallen against his cheek and away from his eyes or mouth. He breathed a sight of relief as he picked up his weapon again, ever alert for another strike.

"Link! You can't just go off on your own like that," Tristan scolded, wiping the remnants of venom from Link's face, "You could've been killed!"

Link's pout was all he got back.

"Try to stay close from now on, alright?"

Link would've responded, but froze as the black plated creature emerged from the tree in full, leaving only its abdomen to maintain its balance upon the perch. Its one massive eye turned their way and squinted curtly at the two.

"Kukukuku," the thing purred, twisting its body to meet its prey. She was somewhat disappointed by the unexpected find. When she felt the stingers tip strike the bony surface of the knife, she had expected a Stalfos with a broken collarbone; her lips glistened with anticipation of the delicious Stalfos bones only to dry at the sight of the bite-sized chunks.

Tristan slowly backpedaled further from both the tree and the arachnid. He looked to those claws, serrated and coated with black armor and recollected the stinger from earlier. Aside from the massive eye, the creature very much resembled a scorpion, a shifter in the desert whose sting had been known to take the lives of many men. With a stinger of that size, the poison, if not the strike, would probably kill them instantly.

The thing laughed at the children's feeble strategy and lunged forward, hoping to at least wet his mouth with the morsels. Tristan raised the knife to block, but shifted it slightly and threw it at the creature's eye. Such a large target was easy, even for someone of his skill.

Then the creature twisted strangely, causing the weapon to strike the creature's lower eyelid. Tristan cursed his poor luck, but realized from the creature's twisted expression that it didn't intend to pull itself away from them.

"The… stone," The creature strained, trying to keep the words at bay, "Where… is the stone?"

A serrated claw swung wildly through the air and Tristan instinctively pulled Link into a dive. The thing flew harmlessly high, but nipped some of Tristan's hair from his skull. Adrenalin rushing, he grunted away the pain, relieved to avoid that head-twisting slap.

The creature continued to flail violently through the air for a few seconds more, but neither of the swooping pincers ever came closer than the initial strike. Then, the thing slithered back into the tree and out of sight of the two companions.

Tristan breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the unexpected reprieve, while Link pulled himself back to his feet.

"Link, are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine." Link replied smoothly, "What was that thing?"

"That was the thing that placed its curse on the Great Deku Tree, the parasitic arachnid Gohma."

"That's the curse? What does the Great Deku Tree expect us to do against that?"

"He doesn't expect anything from you, round ear."

Tristan and Link turned to find remainder of the Kokiri at the grove's entrance. Many of the children had managed to collect a few pots and pans to serve as helmets and shields. Each Kokiri looked ready to do battle, but Mido was truly the most prepared among them, for while the militia brought sticks and stones to bear, Mido brandished a finely crafted short sword. Saria stood beside Mido with a flinted spear at the ready, a tool Tristan had made for fishing.

"Move aside, round ear, there's nothing you can do to help."

Tristan held back the retort and looked at the makeshift army behind them. It was small by most standards, but defiantly large enough to stand at least a slight chance. Still, even if the Kokiri could kill Gohma, how many casualties would there be? It was a grim fact Tristan would rather not think about.

"Mido, I have a proposal."

"I don't have to hear anything from you," Mido replied.

"Ten minutes, if we're not out by then, consider us dead and finish the job."

"You just want to show off in front of Saria," Mido said promptly. Tristan suppressed a frustrated grunt hearing the words. What was more important to the boy, the Kokiri, or his reputation?

Saria grinned at his side, forced but appreciative, "Let them go Mido."

"Come on Saria, we've got like fifty billion people behind us. Well squash that thing."

"At what cost?" Saria stated somberly. Mido moved to retort but stepped back, never considering such a thought. Could they win without any casualties?

"Alright, ten minutes."

Tristan's shoulders slumped, both surprised and thankful that Mido accepted the request.

"However," Mido added, "I'm coming with you."

Again Tristan wanted to dispute Mido's childish demands, but knew they had wasted too much time as it was. Besides, Mido's sword was probably the best chance they had at defeating Gohma.

Tristan nodded, "Alright, lets go."

The three of them made there way back to the hole where Gohma emerged before, and stared into the dark interior. Link with his slingshot, Tristan with his knife, and Mido with his sword, slid one by one into the waiting darkness, hoping a certain scorpion wasn't waiting for them at the bottom.

Mido led the group through the dim bark of the vast and empty tree, his sword held tight against his chest. Tristan and Link followed behind, Link watching the front and Tristan the rear. They were doubtful of Mido's leadership through the dark, splintering tunnel, but Mido wouldn't back down either way. Even so, the two of them doubted they could lead the way any better.

The tunnel lasted only about a few feet before opening up to a large chamber. Random depressions in the wood were filled with sharp splinters and the walls were covered with sticky webbing. Tristan noticed the webs intricate patterns were similar to spiders and while both of his assumptions were arachnids, he somehow doubted a scorpion could create webbing.

The large cavern was so quiet and so very dark. Aside from the dim light from the previous tunnel, only the light of Mido and Link's fairies guided them through the tree.

Tristan and Link slowed their pace to a slow crawl to concentrate on the surrounding walls, but Mido hadn't noticed the change and continued to stomp on, mumbling something about "showoff bramble chewers".

"Mido," Tristan called, trying not to yell. There were many dark corners in the large cavern, especially high above, where the ceiling was at least five meters high.

"I'm not slowing down for either of you." Mido shouted back, even though they were only a few feet apart.

"What's the rush Mido?" Link asked.

"Shut up, I'll never let you have Saria," he shouted before stomping further away.

Link was more surprised by the outburst than he cared to let on. What did he mean by "have" Saria?

"What was that about?" Link queried, turning to Tristan.

Tristan resisted the urge to chuckle: "I don't know," Tristan lied, "Something about Saria I guess."

The two of them picked up the pace, continuing the casual conversation as they closed the gap between their "leader". It wasn't all too hard though as Mido had caught himself on a cradling cobweb only a couple feet into his tantrum. Tristan wanted to say something like "I told you so!" but wisely restrained himself, knowing how poorly the Kokiri would react to the irony.

Tristan began to cut away the sticky strands, but only managed to finish with the sword arm when he heard something in the distance. He told Link and Mido to keep quiet and listened more intently.

"The stone, where is the stone!" The faint echoes overlapped one another and Tristan had difficulty pinning the exact direction. Link's sensitive ears however, quickly discerned the way and he held his slingshot at the ready, a deku nut already loaded into the pouch.

Cautiously, the two made their way quietly towards the noise when Mido started screaming at them again: "Where are you guy's going? Get me out of here!"

"Shut up and do it yourself!" Tristan and Link said in unison.

They would've continued on, were it not for the yellow glowing eye just feet away from them. "Shall I curse you as well," the thing mused.

Linked froze momentarily but Tristan had expected the presence, throwing his knife again that the creatures eye, this time, from point blank. The arachnid's claw was faster than Tristan expected though, and caught the weapon in mid-flight, only a few centimeters from the iris.

"Such a pathetic weapon." Gohma mocked. Its mouth opened impossibly wide, revealing three sets of serrated teeth. Gohma threw the bone knife and caught it in his mouth, letting his powerful teeth crush the fine weapon into powder.

"Damn," Tristan cursed under his breath. He bounced back a few steps to regain his footing, his fist balled and guarding his face. His weapon may have been gone, but maybe he could still punch the pupil with his fists.

"Return the Great Deku Tree back to normal!!" cried Link, loosing his mini projectile. Gohma flinched slightly, but the thing flew harmlessly high, striking the upper part of its eyelid.

Now it was Gohma's turn for a counterattack. It sent the pincers high and low, aiming for the nimble Kokiri from both sides. Gohma would've easily crushed Link against the hard plating, but Link proved to be the more agile, pole-vaulting over the first claw, and using the momentum to duck beneath the other.

Up and down Link went, swinging and flipping with Gohma's powerful strikes, diverting the power to further increase his speed. Gohma changed tactics and moved to crush Link, but still Link eluded the powerful pincers, slipping just out of grasp like a fish. Gohma's grunts soon became frustrated screams as the Kokiri foiled each of its attempts by a hair. Then, she noticed the boy tangled up in its webbing, desperately attempting to cut himself free.

Mido only gulped as the arachnid turned his way, its eye squinting with primal glee.

Link landed from his double back flip and reversed his momentum, throwing all his weight into the charge and hoping the web wouldn't trap them both. He didn't like Mido very much, but he certainly wasn't about to let him be eaten by **that**.

Then, Gohma's claw curved away from its target, swooping around to snatch Link in full stride. Link realized his folly, but knew he couldn't reverse his momentum in time. He reached into his satchel for another seed but knew he wouldn't make it in time. He only had enough time to close his eyes before the claws sank in.

He heard the cracking of bone and opened his eyes to find Tristan, caught in the throws of the pincer. Gohma squealed in glee, exhilarated that it finally caught one of the speedy devils. How exhilarating the blood felt trickling freely from the belly. How he longed to let his claws saw into another living thing, to let its blood gush all the more. It felt so alive!

Link and Mido both nearly swooned at the sight of the pink flesh just beneath Tristan's skin.

Tristan felt his scream from the bottom of his lungs, yet nothing came over the searing agony of his shredded torso. The toothed claws sawed further into his minced midsection, rubbing against his spine, and puncturing one of his kidneys. He never felt the blood boil up his throat, the tingling numbness of his fingers. All that existed was the blaring agony that made the seconds stretch to eternity.

There was one final thud and he lay very still, watching as the colors bled from the world like his open wound. Another gurgle of blood drizzled out and he heard the resounding splash of a leather boot. He looked up and saw a face hazy through eyes, now clouding over in near death. He knew the end was coming, yet there was no remorse, only exhaustion.

He nearly grimaced at the irony of it all, but could not manage the strength. He strained his eyelids for a few moments longer, but they too were tired, too heavy. Soon they closed and Tristan felt the cold darkness of death.

Then a voice came to his thoughts, a calm warming bass that sounded like the grinding of saws on wood.

"_Tristan, wake up, there is still much to do._"

Tristan turned away, wanting only to rest for a few minutes.

"_It seems my time is short, little one."_

"_As is mine," _Tristan retorted.

"_It is not! There is still much for you to do, much for Link to do as well."_

A bright patch came through the darkness just feet away from where he was lying. The luminous thing made Tristan avert his eyes, yet the light that so pierced the dark fascinated him. Slowly, he lifted his aching chest, his throbbing legs. He reached for it and grabbed it and felt something very tangible in his hand.

He opened the hand to find a wondrous emerald the size of his palm in his hand. Across its polished features, wrapped solid gold in vines, caging, no encompassing the marvelous gem and further reflecting its radiance across his hazel eyes.

"_Find the Princess of Destiny… and give her this stone." _The voice grew fainter with each line.

Tristan's hand retightened on the stone, the weariness wafting from his aching legs. "_I will._" Came the stern reply.

"_I only wish I could have done more for you, little one. Farewell… young Tristan."_

"Farewell… Great Deku Tree." He said with closed eyes. The Great Deku Tree had grown to be like a father to him, yet he could not shed tears for what he knew was to come. He opened his eyes again; he was back in the venerable oak, his body fully rejuvenated and the spiritual stone in his left hand.

But there was something else in his other hand, something slender and cold, smooth and featureless. He lifted the object and nearly dropped the thing in surprise. It was his sword, the weapon he awoke with three years prior.

"Tristan, you're alive!" Link yelled, nearly throwing himself into Tristan's arms.

Mido held tightly to Tristan's midsection. "Thank goodness your safe," Mido choked through tears.

Tristan couldn't help the coy smile and Mido pushed him away, "Its not like I was worried about you or anything."

"I'm sure you weren't Mido," Tristan mused.

Mido sternly grunted and all of them shared a laugh.

Until Gohma's shriek drowned their cheers.

"Damn you, you little pests, I'll kill you all!"

Tristan raised the sword, taking the insult as a challenge. Such strength coursed through his arm, he felt simply invincible, "Just you try it bug!" Tristan taunted.

The creature flew at them, and Tristan crouched, bringing his weapon remarkably fast before him. He sidestepped the first, then the second claw and jumped past the stingers range. Even impulsive Gohma knew she was in danger and it tried to pull away.

Then the gleaming emerald in the boy's left hand caught its eye.

Gohma's body reached before he could stop it, the pitiful thing compelled by the cursed command. Tristan thought he heard the thing whimper, but now was never the time for sympathy. One final stab brought the sword clean through Gohma's dilated pupil, blinding the creature forever.

Even blind, the scorpion thought it had cheated death, the weapon missing his precious brain by a few inches. It was unfortunate there was a second sword in position, its course the same as the first.

The curse of the Great Deku Tree was finally undone.

**Link:** "That was awesome! But why couldn't you use a Deku stick?"

**Tristan:** "What difference would a stick make?"

**Link: **"Well you know, those things are so big, you could've killed it in like, five seconds."

**Tristan:** "Oh come on Link, no one could kill it in five seconds right?"

Here's the second question / statement

Name the three Zelda games created for the Phillips CD-i. Bonus points if you can tell me the first company Nintendo partnered with to make CD games.

Once again, whoever gives me the most titles will win a prize. As for the previous winner, sorry but you can't win twice. If however, you want to give it to someone else, I'll accept it, but only if no one else complies. I wish everyone good luck and happy hunting.

Also, I have a big test that's coming up so I won't be working on this till after Saturday's come and gone.

Also the answer to last chapters question. In Japanese, the word for "saw" is actually "Kokiri". So if Mido has the Kokiri saw, it's actually called the Kokiri Kokiri.


	13. The Final Farewell

The Kokiri village. Tristan looked back out his window to the empty streets below. He remembered just a few days back how those same streets bustled with prattling feet and hushed gossip. Often, Tristan found himself down there, trading meat and carvings for food and other essentials. Now though, the grounds seemed devoid of activity, as if inhabitants simply vanished overnight. Tristan knew that wasn't the case of course, but he couldn't help being uneasy.

Even the Lost Woods around them seemed empty and still. Tristan found the situation difficult for his trade, now that the fish had secluded themselves to the lake bottom. The mournful atmosphere that blanketed the woods like a heavy fog had muffled even the chitterling and chirping.

No one could've imagined that the Great Deku Tree had passed away.

But there was something deeper to the welled sorrow that blanketed the trees, a realization of a truth that had never come to pass. He saw it in Mido's eyes, in all the Kokiri's eyes.

In Link's eyes.

The realization of death.

Tristan looked back to the dining table where his plump leather knapsack lay sprawled over its surface, the mouth strapped shut with a segment of corded rope. He had prepared the thing a couple days ago, but had added a few things in the small interlude, including a hairbrush and a gourd filled with dracaena sap. It was said to be a great antiseptic for wounds and Tristan certainly hoped so: He gave up ten pounds of fish for the exchange.

He also had a new knife neatly tucked away in a separate strap on the side. The handle itself was still composed of fish bones, and intricate ruins were engraved on either side for both design and grip. It felt very similar to his first blade he thought to himself, but now instead of ivory, the tip was almost black, a parting gift from the late Gohma and her remarkably hard shell.

It was ironic that such a dreaded creature could make such a beautiful and deadly weapon.

He removed the thing from the belt and replaced it on his belt loop for easy reach. He doubted he would use the knife for combat again, but it would prove invaluable nonetheless, an important tool for survival in the outside world.

Outside world, he thought to himself. Had he really grown so accustomed to the Lost Woods? The Kokiri? It was true that neither he nor the rest of the Kokiri had ever ventured beyond the forest borders. It was said that any Kokiri who left the woods would never return. Yet, Tristan was no Kokiri and such rules didn't apply to him.

So why was Link chosen to accompany him? He may have been fairy less for most of his life, but Navi had finally appeared before him. By all standards, he was as much of a Kokiri as anyone else. It just didn't make sense.

He had to hope that his logic was misguided in someway, had to hope that Link would not be sent to his death. He shouldered the knapsack and reached for his sword, sheathed in bark from the Great Deku Tree and secured with dried, corded, vines.

The weapon vibrated slightly in his hand, and Tristan turned around to find Link standing in the door.

"Are you ready to go?" Link asked, more somber than a child should ever sound. Link certainly looked ready for the rough times ahead. On his back, was the Kokiri sword, as well as a wooden shield carved from the Great Deku Tree's bark. On his waist, lay a satchel, plump with seeds for his slingshot, which he kept, fastened on his opposing belt loop.

Tristan felt uncomfortable looking at the attire, thinking how Link was just a little over ten years old. In the fight with Gohma, Tristan knew a little of Link's innocence was lost. He was no longer the carefree child he had been three years ago.

Tristan secured the vine and rested the sword against his back.

"I'm ready," Tristan replied, "Let's hurry; the morning will be upon us soon."

Deep in the mountain crevasses, the sun just peaked above the valley lip, revealing a small encampment of tents evenly spaced, circled outwards from a river only a few hand-widths wide. Long had the tribe's path taken them through this river, and many would be baffled as to how the massive tribe survived on such meager sips.

It was nothing the Gerudo hadn't faced before.

Most of the tribe was sound asleep at the time, only the ten or so guards that patrolled the borders would be awake for the next hour or so.

It was just what Surethia was counting on as she brushed aside the flap of her tent. She looked to be no more than ten or twelve years old, but her steely expression stole any sense of naivety. Her raven black hair was neatly pulled back and secured with a ruby-studded gold clamp. Her sleeveless vest opened just below the sternum to revealing the toned, rippling muscles of her shapely stomach.

She quickly surveyed the scene before pressing her back lightly against the leather tent adjacent, listening intently for any sound or movement. There were none, and she moved quickly through the camp, her worn leather shoes making less noise then a scurrying scorpion. Lord Ganondorf had requested an audience with her this morning, an impromptu meeting of utmost importance. He specifically commanded her to stay to the shadows, and be certain that she was not followed.

So it was commanded, so it shall be.

Most of the guard patrolled the outer perimeter of the encampment, so she had little trouble avoiding the occasional sentry. It wasn't long before she was next to the King's tent, where she faced her only obstacle. The yurt stood like a palace, yet there was only one entrance to the tent, and two sentries flanked the entrance with spears. She reached for her dagger, but quickly dismissed the simple notion. Avoiding the Gerudo was easy, but Lord Ganondorf would not be pleased to find a new flap in his luxurious tent.

She paused for a moment, and then made her way around the entrance, peeking her head out only slightly to watch the guards. It was obvious to the skilled warrior that the slouching guards had difficulty maintaining their concentration as the end of their appointed shift drew. She also took note how the closest one would occasionally rub her tired eyes, while the second one constantly bobbed her head. She stood for another minute and intently studied the two, looking for any other habits that might prove useful.

In the time it took for the sentries to rub the sleep from their eyes, Surethia had already vanished into the tent, leaving nothing but a flapping door in her wake.

Tristan found solace in the chirping crickets deep inside the Lost Woods. This forest extended for miles in all directions and the outer forest had not been so deeply affected by the Great Tree's demise. It felt good to finally hear life returning to the forest after so long.

Link looked back to the tunnels they had traveled, a series of hollowed logs wide enough for five Kokiri to walk abreast. Few creatures made shelter in the area and Link often thought in those dark tunnels how Tristan had even discovered these hidden pathways. When they set up camp that night, he'd get Tristan to explain.

The sun was just nearing the peak of its arc and Tristan leaned against the suspended bridge connecting the tunnels over the thirty-foot expanse. There was a cliff more than a stone's throw away that looked down upon the bridge. It, like most of the forest landscape, had been overgrown for many a century, but just in sight laid a Wolfos with three cubs, suckling in the safety of her breast.

Link fingered the hilt of his weapon, but Tristan waved his hand. He had seen more than a few packs of these creatures during his time in the woods. Normally, such a pack would consist of ten or even twenty members, yet there was only a mother and pups to be seen.

Tristan did not share Link's feelings of joy, but rather pitied the poor creatures. A single mother to look after three cubs: If they couldn't find another pack to take them in, it would be a difficult venture for them in the near future.

"They're so cute," Link commented, leaning a little too far over the rail, "Do you think I could pet one?"

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," Tristan commented with a smile.

"Do you think maybe we could keep one as a pet?"

"Isn't it a little late for that now?"

"Yeah but I think it'd be great to have a pet Wolfos."

"It would be cool, but I don't think they feel the same way. Come on Link, we have a long road ahead of us."

Link looked back to the final tunnel, the one that led out of the Lost Woods, where the plains of Hyrule lay just beyond. He couldn't help but feel a little anxious about it all. After all, he was a Kokiri, and if the stories were true, he would be the first to ever set foot beyond the wood.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Link asked nervously.

"I'm sure I'm sure," Tristan responded cheerfully, "Now let's get going."

"So you really are leaving."

Link nearly fell off the bridge he was so surprised and Tristan faired little better himself. Just at the other end of the bridge was Saria, her forest green hair blowing on a quick draft. She held her hands tightly together and looked to her feet with a deep sense of melancholy. Her eyes didn't possess their typical childish gleam, but possessed a look far older than her years would allow.

She slowly paced across the bridge, her footfalls making no sound against the old, creaking bridge. "The Great Deku Tree has given you a task that may well change the world beyond the woods forever.

"Tristan, I never allowed myself to admit it, but I love you more than you will ever know." Tristan honestly didn't know how to react, but Saria pressed her finger against his lips, knowing she didn't need a reply.

"I love you Tristan, and because of that, I want you to have this." She opened her other hand, where her wooden ocarina lay extended to his reach.

"S-Saria, I cannot accept this," Tristan stammered.

"Please, take it with you, and think of me whenever you play it."

"Well, that's great and all, but I don't know the first thing about playing an ocarina. Here, you hold onto it Link. You can play it right."

"Well yeah but, I'm not nearly as good as Saria."

"Its fine, you'll get better as we go along." Tristan turned back to Saria, and placed his hands on her shoulders: "Well, I guess this is goodbye."

For only a moment, their eyes locked, and Tristan understood why the eyes were called the window to the soul. In that moment, he knew he understood Saria better than anything he had come to think of in the past three years.

Her eyes began to mist: "Don't forget, you'll always have a home with us, no matter how big you get."

"I'll miss you too Saria," Tristan chocked, pulling her into a hug. He honestly didn't want to leave now, but he knew there was another home to return to, another family to return to, and he was certain there was another way home, even if no one knew what it was.

After another hug from Link, Saria watched the two, face the final tunnel hand in hand, each of them gripping the other as if they would soon disappear. Their steps were slow at first, but they pressed on, until the two became no more than dark silhouettes against the black interior.

Saria was sad to see the two leave, but she knew it was for the best. The Kokiri themselves lived through the decades in youthful bliss until they too returned to the world to become fairies for the next generation. She laid witness to the cycle hundreds of times over the centuries, she knew she would live long after Link and Tristan passed on and crumbled to dust.

She truly loved Tristan more than she ever loved anyone, but she understood that he was nothing more than a speck in the expanse of history and he, like all beings, would fade with the passage of time. She would remain a constant in the ever-shifting planes of eternity, an unmoving stone in the mighty river of time.

Such was, and is, the fate of Kokiri's eve, the child the Goddess's had blessed with eternity.

Surethia almost forgot to breathe when she set foot into the massive yurt. Its massive walls were lined with priceless fabrics, adorned with many of the tales of old. It was said only the strongest and most exceptional Gerudo were ever embroidered in tapestry, a token of immortality that lasted through the ages and was passed down to each King. Mesmerized hardly began to describe how she felt at this moment, surrounded by her legendary ancestors.

She had never seen as much gold in her life as was laid before the feet of the King's throne. Valuable urns, scrolls, and treasures littered the ground, as if a tribute to the mighty King. She was tempted to slide a few of the precious gems into her pockets, but declined knowing many of her accessories probably came from this very store house.

"It's beautiful."

"I'm pleased you appreciate your heritage."

Surethia quickly fell to one knee, cursing herself for her lack of manners in the Lords own chambers. She would have to punish herself at a later time for her rudeness: "Forgive my impudence Lord Ganondorf; I've never visited your chambers before."

"Pay it no mind," He replied, sliding his fingers through the silky threads, "They are truly a sight to behold. Would you like to feel how smooth these tapestries are?"

"Was there something you needed of me, my Lord?"

To the point, it was something Ganondorf had come to both love and despise about the little warrior. Such a thought made business much smoother for the King, yet he could not enjoy the supple wordplay that so entertained him on long, hot days.

He returned to his throne and crossed his arms and legs, taking notice that the little warrior's jeweled dagger was stationed on her left hip today, though he didn't think it had any real significance: "It seems there has been a small setback in my plan. Gohma has failed in her mission."

Surethia's eyes widened. She had never believed that anything could defeat the mighty arachnid. But what unnerved her more than the creature's defeat, was the calm disposition in the Lord's tone. Saying such a blow was but a "small setback" troubled her deeply.

Surethia's stunned expression was all he needed as a reply, "It was foolish of me to implant such a straightforward command. Maybe then it would not have suffered such a pathetic end."

"My Lord, surly any command you give is far from foolish."

"Do not speak unless spoken to," Ganondorf barked. In truth, he had aimed for such sympathy, but only to see how Surethia would react. He was not pleased, and an angry glare sent Surethia ever closer to the cold sand, her petite nose nearly touching the ground, not daring to lift her eyes again.

Ganondorf let the awkward silence hang in the air for a few moments before continuing.

"In the end, Gohma is no more, and our prize has been stolen from us."

"Who my Lord?" Surethia pleaded, "What could possibly defeat such a creature?"

"Sit before me," Ganondorf bid.

She was obviously puzzled about the command but didn't dare to speak against it. She made her way slowly to the base of the throne and kneeled as instructed, not even lifting her head as he rose from his throne. A single step brought him down and Surethia's eyes darted to the sword buckled to Ganon's hip. She imagined the cold obsidian pressed against her exposed neck, yet she did not flinch, did not even lift an eyebrow.

However instead of his sword, Ganondorf's hand rested against her forehead. It felt liked an egg had been cracked over her head and when she blinked, the tent walls shifted to solid oak and the candlelight had become fairy light. Surethia was perplexed by these sudden visions, but she noticed the subtle change in depth perception, the widened scope of her vision.

She was seeing the world through Gohma's eye.

She saw three children, but she quickly ignored the two Kokiri and focused her attention on the one in the middle. His light green tunic was stained with blood thick enough to seep through the clothing. Such a wound had to be wide and deep for the amount of blood, yet the boy was still standing without assistance. How was it the boy wasn't dead, nonetheless conscious?

She noticed the featureless weapon in his right hand, but in his left was a gleaming emerald wrapped in golden vine. The boy jumped forward and a claw shot out from the right then the left. The boy dodged the jabs easily and his sword came to bear. Gohma shot forward, and the room went black, accompanied only by a warm prickling agony.

Surethia fell back into the tent and fell to the ground, clutching her still stinging eyes to rub away the pain. For a moment, she thought she too had been blinded and only the gritty blurry sand told her otherwise.

Ganondorf had returned to his seat and watched the scene. He could've easily broken the trance before the moment of impact, but experiencing such pain was all part of her training, even if it did grant him a moment of amusement.

"What did you see?" Ganondorf asked coolly.

Surethia's eyes felt like they were covered with needles, but she gave the twangs little more notice than the blazing sun above: "There were three children, two Kokiri and a round ear. It seems their intent was to stop Gohma from completing her mission but based on the damage, it was probably far too late for them to succeed.

"The round ear appears to be the strongest of the three, and possesses a strange power that heals his wounds. Perhaps the Great Deku Tree provided its assistance, but so far there is no evidence to solidify the theory. It also seems that the Kokiri emerald is in his possession, but I doubt it will be too difficult to retrieve with a little effort."

Ganondorf flashed a grin to show he was satisfied with the answer. He had surveyed that battle several times over the hours leading to this meeting, and he had still failed to reach many of the conclusions she had come to. She even knew the name of the Kokiri emerald, something only he knew amongst the tribes.

"Congratulations Surethia, your analysis has been most thorough and you have proven yourself beyond all my expectations." He snapped his fingers and a scimitar fell gently into his opposing hand. "You have earned the right to wield this blade, use it well."

Surethia rose from her position and removed the weapon from her Lord's outstretched hand. She sent the blade through a series of intricate motions to test its balance and weight, and it proved so optimal, she often found her form clumsy and overbalanced.

Ganondorf watched the dance patiently, taking much joy in the fluidity of her movements, the perfect shifting of weight across her rippling figure and while her form was off by about half-an-inch, it was enchanting to watch the young beauty.

When the spectacle finally ended, she secured the weapon against her belt sash: "It is truly a marvelous blade." She commented, returning to kneel once again.

"The Gerudo Dragon suits you well," he remarked.

Surethia was taken back for a moment when she heard the name. She looked back at the belted blade and saw intricate carving on the hilt, the stone dragon's head that indicated the legendary weapon. It was said this weapon had only been bestowed upon two or three women in the entire history of the Gerudo. It was the greatest gift she could possibly receive, that any Gerudo could receive.

"Surethia, your next objective is to track down the round ear, find out everything you can and report back to me in three days time."

"As you wish, my Lord," she curtly replied. She spun on her heel to leave, but spun back when Ganondorf spoke again.

"And keep him alive for me, he may yet prove to be valuable."

Surethia wanted to oppose the subject, but she looked back at the Gerudo Dragon and thought of the confidence the Lord must have to bestow her with the weapon. She would not fail his expectations.

"As you wish, my Lord." She bowed, and with the blink of an eye, all that remained was the flapping tent.

_To be continued…_


	14. Author's Note

My Thanks

My Thanks

I'd like to devote this section to al the fans that have kept with me till the very end. I know I'm not the best writer, but I'm very thankful that you've helped me come this far improve m style. This story has become far more popular than anything I thought possible. So first off, I want to thank all my readers from the bottom of my heart.

With that said, I am planning to continue this series. However, I want to finish the prologue for **Dark Star** along with the pilot chapter for my Prince of Tennis fanfic. So, for all of you who are wondering when the next book will come out, I'll get to it as soon as I can. Until then, I hope you can read these latest stories, especially **Dark Star** on . I'm hoping to get it published someday so any criticism is gratefully accepted. I want to make it as great as it can be, and I hope you can help me get there.

To be honest, I've already finished the prologue, and I'm almost done with the pilot chapter, so I'm hoping to work on the next book by next week or so. I hope you can go to and leave a review for **Dark Star**.

I'd like to give a special shout out to my beta reader RichOverlordSam for his through critiques that have helped me more than a little. I'd recommend his story **The New Ganondorf** for anyone who's interested in self-inserts. It is defiantly a cut above the rest.

I also must thank 4th Triforce Piece for his insight and brain. He helped pester me to get new chapters out much quicker and stop being such a lazy bum. I hope I can continue to impress you in the future 4th.

And for all of you, who want to continue into the next book, put you name on my author alert list so I don't have to e-mail you personally. I hope my time away is shot indeed, and I hope to see you and many others read my stories in the future.

If you guys have any other question, send me a message and I'll try to answer it as best I can.

Thank you all

Signed

Kouta Aburame

The final question will be in the next section, so good luck.

Here's the final question for the final chapter.

Off all the Zelda games, which one derives from the "Zelda formula" the most.

Ocarina of Time

Majora's Mask

The Adventure of Link

Four Sword's Adventures

First to get the right answer gets the final prize, a character in my story so answer quickly and good luck.


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